


Shine

by AquaFish



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcohol, Attempted non-consensual sex, Erotic dreaming, F/M, Female Masturbation, First Time, Hand Jobs, Making Out, More tags to follow as story progresses, Near-nudity, Nudity, Sex, Some cursing/derogatory terms, Vaginal Fingering, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:45:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 140,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaFish/pseuds/AquaFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pyrrha loves Jaune, as we know. It's awkward as they're best friends. The pretty, insane and clingy Peony Bloom arrives on scene, who swiftly establishes herself as Jaune's girlfriend. Jaune's confused, Pyrrha's depressed, and Ruby decides to play Cupid as well as push Peony away using whatever means possible - from instances including mashed potato or Blake eating chilli to just generally kicking her ass off the scene...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Balloons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a day out in Vale, a girl slips and falls off the balcony. Jaune catches her, and the girl decides that they're meant to be. The rest of the group think she's weird, Weiss finds her infuriatingly fake, and Pyrrha is just not happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> British spelling ahead. You have been warned.

Before she came to Beacon Academy, Pyrrha Nikos promised herself three things.

1) To make friends, no matter what.

2) To be the best friend she could be and help said friends whenever they needed it.

3) To absolutely, definitely, never, ever fall in love with any of them.

Within the first semester, she realised that she had already failed the third. Worse still, why why why did it have to be the one person who treated her as his equal the first day they met, the person who trusted her enough to confide everything in her, the best friend she’d ever had? 

“Cupid’s arrows have no target” was the old saying back in her home kingdom of Mistral. But Pyrrha felt like it was all part of a joke by the fictional god.

 

“Sis! Look! That balloon looks just like Zwei!”

Ruby pointed madly at a helium balloon drifting above the road, squealing in delight. 

Yang rolled her eyes with a smile. “No it doesn’t, it’s the wrong colour.”

More balloons joined the floating dog, and they soared above them like a flock of very colourful swans against the orange evening sky. Nora began counting them, lost count, restarted, gave up.

Teams RWBY and JNPR were having one last day out in Vale before classes started the next day. It was all part of Ruby’s ‘Best Day Ever Plan Mark 2’ which did not include the infamous epic food fight a couple of months ago. No, the last final day before the third semester began was spent with the friends enjoying whatever the Vytal Festival had to offer. Games, rides, food, even a little dancing. Now they were winding down at a little café, at two outdoor tables each, watching the balloons – apart from Blake, who had her nose very firmly in a book.

“I wonder how far some of them will go,” Ruby mused. “To Vacuo?”

“It’s a westerly breeze,” Weiss noted matter-of-factly. “They’ll make it to Mistral if they’re lucky.”

At that, Pyrrha chuckled. The image of a solitary balloon, the Zwei one, perhaps, bopping along the sky above her own house flashed in her mind. Her father would see it and think _“Didn’t Pyrrha say one of friend had a dog like that?”_ and then _“Pyrrha has good friends now. I’m so glad”_ or something like that. Her lack of friendships in Mistral were part of the reason why she moved to Vale; that and the fact that she wasn’t as famed here as she was there. She was just a face on a cardboard box, as Jaune had proved.

_Oh, Jaune._

The gangly leader of JNPR was now having a game of who-can-spot-the-weirdest-looking-balloon with Ruby and Nora. While those who approached Pyrrha did it with caution and excessive respect, Jaune had done it in the upmost confidence and, well, ignorance. Good ignorance, though. Over half a year later, their friendship was one of the strongest. But now…

_Damn you, Cupid._

“LIFE-SIZED BALLOON OF SPRUCE WILLIS!” Nora yelled, jabbing at the sky.

“How can you tell it’s life-sized?” Ruby retorted.

“It’s massive!”

Indeed, larger than all the rest, an inflatable version of the famous action film star swept above them. Ruby and Jaune accepted defeat.

“I should buy the DVD of his latest movie,” Jaune murmured, his eyes locked on the balloon floating down, down, down. “We could all have a movie night some time.”

A mischeivious smile played at Pyrrha’s lips. “Isn’t it the movie you asked Weiss to see with you?”

Jaune pouted in mock upset. “Shut up. I wore a dress for you, remember? I risked my own masculinity, and right in front of the whole school and the exchange students!”

The group tittered at the memory while Pyrrha glowed, and the Spruce Willis balloon became entangled at the strings in a balcony rail.  
“Guess he was too heavy to fly, huh,” Yang remarked. “All those muscles.”

At that moment, the balcony doors opened and a pinkish figure emerged. She leaned right over the rail to untangle the string.

“That looks dangerous…” said Weiss.

The figure’s foot wobbled as she reached down as far as she could.

“Why would you do that in heels?” Ruby sighed.

“She’s going to fall!” Pyrrha cried.

The foot finally slipped beneath her, and over the rails she went. Jaune reacted the quickest he had ever done, and bolted out of his seat to sprint to the house as the girl plummeted. He made it just in time, and she landed clumsily in his arms, the force causing him to buckle and fall. The other seven rushed to the scene, shocked and alarmed. They crowded round Jaune and the girl, fretting and asking each other if they were alright and wondering what to do.

“Jaune!” Pyrrha knelt by her friend. “Are you ok?”

A dazed but unhurt Jaune nodded with an “Uh-huh.” He tried to sit up, but the girl in his arms pinned him down. She wasn’t heavy or large, just lying right across his chest.

“Is she alright?” Yang murmured.

Blake touched the girl’s cheek. “She’s fine. I think she’s just fainted.”

“She looks very flushed to have fainted,” Weiss noted.

At this, the girl appeared to flush even more. Her cheeks were turning pinker than the petal-like frock she wore.

“Could you help me up please?” came Jaune’s muffled voice. “She’s crushing my lungs.”

Ren and Yang gently pulled the ‘unconscious’ girl off him, and Pyrrha helped him sit up. He panted and wheezed, and thanked them.

“Did I save her then?” he said.

All eight of them gazed down at the pink-clad girl, lying on the ground like a fairy tale princess waiting for her prince’s kiss to rouse her. Her soft brown hair curled in neat ringlets at the ends, and a floral headband embellished her crown. Her lips were like a rosebud, her cheeks blossoms, her skin smooth as petals… she even _smelt_ of flowers.

“She doesn’t appear to have any physical injuries,” Blake reported. “I think her aura protected her.”

“She’s a trainee huntress?” Weiss regarded the flowery girl in doubt. She looked far too dainty. But then, she had underestimated Penny too, and she herself looked like a delicate ice princess.

“Don’t you think we should wake her up?” said Yang.

“She’s already awake. Her face is red and her hands weren’t always clasped like that.”

“We should still get her talking…”

Ruby knelt by the girl, and gave her shoulder a gentle shake. “Excuse me? Are you alright?”

No reaction.

“Hellooo?”

Still nothing.

Weiss stepped in. “Honestly, we can tell you’re faking it.”

At that, the girl’s eyelids fluttered open to reveal magenta irises. She placed the back of her hand against her forehead in a dramatic gesture.

“Oh my!” Her voice was honey-sweet and bird-like. “What on Remnant happened? Last I remember I was on the balcony…”

“Still faking,” Weiss muttered.

“…And now here I am on the floor!” The girl cast them all a sunny beam. “I don’t suppose you could help me up could you? It is awfully uncomfortable down here.” 

Reluctantly, Ruby and Yang pulled her up – slowly, as the girl blinked a few times when she was feeling ‘light-headed’ – while Jaune and Pyrrha rose back onto their feet.  
Releasing herself from the sisters’ arms, the flowery girl smiled at them again, took her skirts in her hands, and _curtseyed_.

“My name is Peony Bloom,” she said. Then her magenta eyes locked on Jaune. “Who are you?”

Ruby began, “I’m Ruby Rose-”

“Not you,” Peony shot back at her with a glare, and Ruby clamped her mouth shut. Peony turned back to Jaune. “You.”

The blond boy blinked at her. “What?”

“Anybody else getting Penny vibes?” Yang whispered.

“You saved my life!” Peony gushed, stepping ever closer to him. “You’re my _hero_! Please, tell me your name so I can never truly forget he who ensured I would see tomorrow!”

“Nora vibes,” Blake muttered.

“No, this girl’s far worse,” Ren replied.

“Uh, Jaune,” Jaune spluttered. “Jaune Arc.”

Ruby flashed him a wicked grin. “Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue. _Ladies love it_.”

“Shut up, Ruby!”

“Oh, but I _do_ love it!” Peony stepped so close to him that he had to back away. “It’s a wonderful name, for a wonderful person.”

Something slimy and cold constricted in Pyrrha’s stomach. She clenched her jaw and hugged her torso in an attempt to soothe it, but the feeling remained.

Weiss checked the time on her scroll. “Would you look at that. It’s getting late, and we really need to get going now.” 

The others nodded in eager agreement.

“Ooo, where’re you going?” Peony asked, eyes sparkling.

The group exchanged dubious glances. At last, Ruby said, “Beacon…”

“You’re at Beacon too? Fabulous! I’m an exchange student from Haven.”

“You are?” Weiss narrowed her eyes. She would have to ask Neptune about this questionable character. Penny had been weird and annoying. But this Peony girl had escalated to the high podium of Most Insane and Infuriating Individual Ever Encountered by Weiss Schnee. And there were a lot of people on that list, including Ruby, Jaune and Nora.

“Oh yes. I would come with you, but I need to stay here until my aunt gets back.”

 _Thank goodness_ and _Just as well_ were the thoughts of everyone else.

“Well, we need to go now,” said Yang with a strained smile. “See you. Don’t fall off the balcony again.”

They turned to leave, and Peony called after them, “If I do, I want Jaune to catch me again!”

Jaune spun round. “Please don’t do that!” Seeing her stricken expression, he added, “I mean, what if I miss?”

Peony’s face relaxed and she smiled. “You won’t. See you tomorrow.” 

Then she put her petal hand to her rosebud mouth, and blew him a kiss. Jaune’s cheeks reddened to match Pyrrha’s hair, and he quickened his pace. The others strived to keep up with him.

“If she has combat class with us,” Pyrrha announced, “dibs on being her first opponent.”

“Aww, beat me to it!” Yang moaned.

“Dibs on being second,” Weiss added.

“Third,” said Ruby.

“Wait, I’ve been pushed to fourth now?” the brawler protested.

While the girls squabbled, Nora gave Pyrrha’s hand a comforting squeeze. She understood her friend’s distress – she’d been the first to notice Pyrrha’s feelings for their leader. 

“Best day ever, right?” Pyrrha sighed with a rueful smile.

“It was, until the end,” Nora offered. “That girl was just _awkward_.”

Weiss’s voice called from the right, “It wouldn’t have gone so bad if Ruby hadn’t said anything.”

Plucked out of the current debate, Ruby cast a wide-eyed look at her partner.

“ _Me_? What did _I_ do?”

“After Jaune said his name,” Weiss snapped. “It was weird to begin with, but after _that_ , just _no_. She’s going to mush after us at Beacon now, mark my words”

At the front, Jaune appeared to be slowing down. Pyrrha let go of Nora for Ren to take her place, and caught up with Jaune and touched his arm. 

“Jaune… Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He offered her a smile. His blush had faded, but there was still an awkward tint to his tone. “Just… weirded out.”

Pyrrha sighed in relief. Jaune had not returned Peony’s advances and seemed unlikely to do so. Yet her magenta eyes had burned with such passion and lust, gleamed with want.

“We’re all weirded out,” she said.

“It was way more intense for me. I actually thought she was going to swallow my face or something.” An explosive chortle followed, and Pyrrha couldn’t help but laugh along. Jaune was just so good at getting something funny or good out of a bad situation, or just cheering her up. He wore a dress for her just to make her smile, he poured out his heart to her, whether she wanted to hear it or not. He was her best friend, and he’d made sure crushes didn’t come between them. What he couldn’t do was protect their bond from Pyrrha herself; that was up to her. And as for crazy besotted flower girls, that remained to be seen.

His advancements on Weiss had hurt, but her rejections had somewhat softened the blow. Yet for some reason, Peony had made her stomach twist and tighten more than she deemed possible. Why? Jaune didn’t even like Peony. Maybe it was because she was smaller, prettier? Perhaps it was because he could potentially change his mind about her?

_Stupid Cupid, why do you have to do this to me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed Peony's name is similar to Penny's, and they both act similarly. This is all a coincidence, Peony is not nearly as awesome as Penny.  
> I am firmly aboard the HMS Arkos, and this story is something i've been thinking of for a while. Never done romance before, so we'll see how it turns out...


	2. Prelude to the War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peony uses whatever means possible to get closer to Jaune.

As was customary before combat class, everyone filed into the locker rooms to change from their school uniforms into their combat gear. There were cubicles designated for boys and girls to change in privacy, and Pyrrha had made it a habit to use them only to switch into the bare essentials of her outfit. She emerged in just her battle corset, short shorts and miniskirt. Everything else she would assemble whilst she socialised with the others; namely, Jaune.

“I hope I don’t have to fight today,” he grumbled as he fastened his shoulder guard. “Last time, Yang pummelled me.”

Nonchalantly, Pyrrha pushed herself into her long stockings. “You’re getting better though. Even Professor Goodwitch has noticed.”

Jaune shrugged and moved onto his second shoulder. “I don’t like sparring with other people. I much prefer it with you.”

Pyrrha’s heart soared, and she all but jumped into her boots. _It’s because you’re his tutor and you’re not so rough on him._ Her heart sank again. Damnit, reason.

Further down the room, Yang reloaded Ember Celicia with a focused stare across the benches.

“Flower bitch at twelve o’clock.”

“Hmm?” Ruby looked up from fastening her boots, and exhaled a deep “Ohhh.” 

Peony Bloom, in all her spring glory, applied a fresh layer of lip gloss as she gazed at herself in a flowery compact mirror. She wore the same clothes as yesterday – _That’s her combat skirt?_ Ruby thought – albeit with a pair of lacy stockings and floral heels.

Weiss and Blake joined in with the staring. Peony pouted in the mirror.

“She is _so_ fake,” Weiss remarked.

“What was with her yesterday?” Blake mumbled.

“I wonder what weapon she has?” said Ruby.

Weiss nudged her in the ribs.

“I mean, I think we should hide Jaune.”

A more agreeable statement from the team leader, and the girls were swift to alert JNPR of the adversary. As soon as he saw Peony, Jaune turned quickly back around, and stared at the back of his locker.

“I don’t want her to swallow my face,” he whimpered.

“I think we’d sooner have asthma attacks,” Ren noted drily. 

Peony was now excessively spraying herself with a bottle of pink perfume. Then she sprayed the air around her. She would soon be ready, and then…

“Time to go?” said Ruby hopefully.

Jaune slammed his locker door shut. “Absolutely.”

The two teams swept out of the locker rooms unnoticed; Pyrrha still putting on her gloves as they left. 

Three minutes later, Jaune was back at his locker.

“Knew I forgot something,” he muttered as he punched in his password, and retrieved Croeca Mors. Slamming the door shut again, he attached his weapon to his belt and jogged back out. 

Peony gazed after him, then at the keypad. She had watched him intently as he pressed the buttons, and memorised their order. Passion outweighing reason, she approached the keypad, and placed her finger on the first number…

 

“And that’s the match. Victory to Nora Valkyrie.”

Nora folded away Magnhild with a deliberate flourish, while Sky Lark hobbled back to his shamed team.

“I bet even _Jaune_ could defeat that guy,” Weiss mumbled as she ran a file over her nails.

“He will one day,” said Pyrrha, and exchanged grins with the under-skilled boy in question. 

Across the amphitheatre, Peony watched this moment of mutual affection like a hawk targeting a vole. Jaune Arc caught her from the balcony, not anyone else. Jaune was _hers_. And she’d already taken the first steps to solidify that.

The raucous bell crowed throughout the school just as Nora skipped back to her teammates. Followed and watched by Peony, teams RWBY and JNPR exited the amphitheatre and made their way to the locker rooms. Jaune and Pyrrha chatted and laughed and smiled together more than Peony was comfortable with. Jaune was hers, Jaune was hers. Not Pyrrha Nikos’s. _Hers._

Students reached into their lockers to reclaim their folded – or scrunched up – uniforms, before proceeding to the cubicles. Exchange students didn’t have lockers and so relied on gym bags. Peony pulled out her grey Haven skirt from her flower-splattered bag, and watched Jaune again.

“And we need to get sweet popcorn too this time,” Jaune was saying to Pyrrha. “Remember last time when Nora started having withdrawal symptoms from lack of sugar?”

Pyrrha giggled. “That film wasn’t even two hours long!”

The two laughed again, and Jaune gained access to the contents of his locker. Peony scrutinized his every move. The leader of JNPR collected his poorly-folded uniform, dropped his shoes, picked them up, and dropped his shirt in the process. After almost every garment had touched the floor, it finally clicked. He laid out each piece on the bench, frowning. Shoes, check. Shirt, check. Tie, pants, blazer… Where was his sweater?

“Guys,” he called. “My sweater’s gone.”

A few lockers away, Weiss rolled her icy eyes. “Well, of course it would be _Jaune_ , wouldn’t it?”

Next to her, Pyrrha cast Jaune a look of concern. “Are you sure it’s not in your locker?”

“I’ve checked.”

“Not tucked in your blazer?”

“Nope.”

Pyrrha abandoned her own uniform in her locker to help Jaune scrutinize each piece of laid out clothing, and scouring every corner of his locker. After finding nothing, the meticulous Ren was roped in to help, but not even he could find any trace of it. Before long, a whole search party had been formed for the sweater, including Sun’s team. Many more lockers were examined, bags investigated, whole room excavated. Yet the blue sweater remained invisible.

Jaune ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Don’t worry about it, guys. I don’t want you to get in trouble for being late because of me.”

“It’s fine –” Pyrrha began, but was cut across by a sweet, bird-like chirp.

“Is this it?”

Those who had been hunting for the sweater turned, and groaned inwardly (or outwardly in Weiss’s case). Peony Bloom held the blue woollen sweater in the air like a flag.

Jaune swallowed. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Peony beamed, and minced over to him. She presented the sweater to him as if it were a crown on a plush cushion; it was even neatly folded.

“Uh, thanks,” said Jaune as he took it. “Where was it?”

“Over there.” Peony gestured vaguely with a flick of her head.

“But… I’m sure I left it in my locker with the rest of my stuff…”

The flower nymph gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Oh well, you’ve got it now.” She glanced at their search party audience who had gathered closer. Pyrrha, Weiss and Blake stood at the front, wearing the most sceptical expressions of the lot.  
Pyrrha’s emerald eyes flashed dangerously. She knew Jaune had left his sweater in the locker with all the rest of his uniform. Someone would have had to have gone in there and taken it. How convenient that it was the girl whose life he saved that found it in the end…

Perhaps she was jumping to conclusions. After all, she didn’t really know Peony that well. Would she really go so far as to break into someone’s locker to pull off a pathetic stunt like this?

“Look at us.” Peony flashed her pearly whites at Jaune. “Fate has brought us together once again. Isn’t it ironic?”

_Yes. Very._

Jaune didn’t answer. His eyebrows only drew closer together in confusion.

Peony continued, “Perhaps we should start hanging out more? You know, get to know each other.”

That was the bombshell, and it ricocheted around Pyrrha’s chest; it felt like her heart had burst into flames and pieces of its shell were embedded in her insides.

“Uhh…” Jaune cast a helpless look at his friends. Ruby, Yang, Sun, Neptune and Nora all made rather obvious “NO!” gestures.

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve got lessons, and combat practice, and studying…”

“Oh, come on!” Peony whined, her face changing to one that looked as though it would shatter in tears at any moment. “I’m only here for one semester! It’s only a few weeks.” Her magenta eyes widened, and tears formed at the edges.

“How old is this girl?” Blake whispered.

Jaune sighed in defeat. It was a tactic Ruby and his youngest sister had won him over with many times before. “Alright then. I suppose it can’t hurt to get to know each other a _little_ bit.”

Weiss face-palmed. Ruby fell flat on her back. Nora had since fallen asleep.

Peony bounced in her heels and squealed in ecstasy. “Fabulous! We can hang out at lunch, and after school, and…”

“I’m going to get changed now,” Jaune murmured, and pushed past her with his newly reunited uniform in his arms. Peony pirouetted in triumph, and went to get changed herself.

The remaining friends just exchanged wordless, shocked, speechless looks. Except Pyrrha, who meekly collected her clothes and hugged them to her chest. How she wanted to fight hat girl now…

“Peony Bloom,” Sun mumbled. “Of all people.”

“Why?” Weiss turned. “What do you know of her?”

Sun and Neptune exchanged inscrutable glances, before the former said, “She’s… _notorious_ , in Haven.”

“Notorious how?”

“Weird. Clingy. Thinks she’s the best thing since dust,” Neptune sighed. “Not even her own team are that fond of her, apparently. Thank God she’s not their leader.”

“What else?” Weiss pressed, interest piqued.

“We don’t actually know her or anyone closely associated with her,” Sun went on. “But we’ve heard rumours.”

“And a lot of bitching,” Neptune added.

“In conclusion, she sounds pleasant.” Yang’s tone was so dry it could mop up a whole puddle. 

The girls murmured in agreement, and Pyrrha gripped her shirt so hard it could be perminantly crumpled. Jealousy was a feeling she’d grown used to since last semester. But never had it enticed anger too. She had been civil to Weiss. That would be an impossibility with Peony. Heck, Pyrrha had dibs on being her first opponent; she wanted to actually _fight_ her.

And now… And now Peony was going to make sure she spent more time with Jaune. She was going to steal him.

Pyrrha twisted the shirt into a tight, frustrated knot.

_This means war._


	3. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peony finds a particular tactic to win Jaune over, the childishness of its nature is invalid (to her).

It began at lunch.

Teams RWBY and JNPR sat at their usual spot together, chatting merrily as though the incident with Peony had never happened. They were currently continuing from Jaune’s movie night plan.

“Soda!” Nora blurted through a mouthful of carrot. “Lots n lots of soda!”

“And cookies!” Ruby added, chomping gluttonously on one herself. “I’ll get five packs, how does that sound?”

Weiss regarded her in disdain. “Should we really be eating so unhealthily?”

“It’s only for one film. So, why not?”

Pyrrha opened her mouth to point out that Ruby and Nora would likely have sugar rushes at this rate, when…

“Hello, Jaune!”

The descendant of the great war hero fell back and screamed in fright. Peony only giggled.

“Thought I might sit with you at lunch.”

Jaune regained his posture, and looked at her, then his friends, then her again. The others stared at Peony, eyes unwelcoming. In her dark Haven uniform, the most colourful thing about her was the flowers in her hair and the little pink roses embroidered in her stockings; these on a pair of generously long legs shown at their full glory thanks to her ridiculously hitched-up skirt. Despite the glares, the flower girl remained unfazed. She wasn’t even looking at them; her focus was solely on Jaune.

“I…” The boy gazed down uncertainly at his plate. “I don’t think there’s enough room…”

“Of course there is! All you need to do is move up.”

Defeated, Jaune cast an apologetic look down his team, and shifted to the right as far as Pyrrha’s sturdy body would allow. Sighing, she also moved, for him not for Peony. 

Peony beamed at the melancholy group. “I couldn’t help but overhearing your movie night plans.” Her tone was overly-bright.

Weiss threw her a frosty warning look. “It’s for teams RWBY and JNPR _only._ And maybe team SSSN.”

“Can I come?”

The ice blue eyes only hardened to diamond. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

Magenta eyes widened to portray the perfect portrait of innocence. “But I’d like to come too.”

Blake leaned in to whisper to Yang, “Is she mentally handicapped?”

“We’re sorry, Peony,” said Ruby, a note of genuine sympathy in her voice. “But it’s for friends only.”

Magenta eyes glassed at the rims as they melted. “But I’m _Jaune’s_ friend!” She grabbed hold of Jaune’s arm to prove her point, and hugged it tightly.

Weiss’s temper flared. “No you’re not, you barely know each other!”

“That’s why we’re hanging out now!”

“Well, you can’t come. You’re not _our_ friend even if you think you’re his.”

Tears rolled down Peony’s rosy cheeks as her tantrum climaxed. She screamed, wailed, cut off Jaune’s blood supply to his hand.

“My hand’s tingling!” he bleated.

“Everyone’s looking at us,” Ren observed.

Indeed, neighbouring tables turned to stare and whisper at the commotion. Team CRDL howled with laughter. CFVY murmured to each other. And from team SSSN’s table, Sun leapt up and yelled, “WOULD SOMEBODY SHUT THAT BITCH UP?!” 

Yang and Nora sprang into action. Grabbing an arm each, they tried to wrench the shrieking girl off Jaune’s cramping arm. Peony only clung on tighter, and wept into his sleeve, pulling him closer. Instinctively, Pyrrha grabbed his other arm and heaved to counteract the action. At once, Jaune found himself in the centre of a tug-of-war. Back when he first arrived at Beacon, he would have relished the thought, especially if it included Weiss. Now, he wasn’t so sure he wanted it with anyone, especially deranged flower girls.

“PLEEEASE LET ME COME!!” Peony cried, tears soaking Jaune’s sleeve.

“I swear I’ll break your fingers if you don’t let go!” Yang threatened, her eyes flickering to red.

“Why are you so _weeeirrrd??”_ Nora wailed.

Inhaling deeply, Peony released her loudest cry yet. The spectators gasped and moaned, those closest and unoccupied clamped their hands over their ears.

“Make it stop!” Ruby screeched, hiding her head in her hood.

Finally, Jaune dealt with the situation the only way he knew how. He raised his voice over Peony’s. “Ok, ok, you can come! Now please be quiet and let go of my arm!”

In an instant, the crying stopped. Peony sat up, brushed Yang and Nora away, and released Jaune’s arm, which he shook and flexed to get the blood flowing back through. Peony wiped her eyes, and her sunny smile returned as if nothing had happened. It was the smile of a girl who had gotten what she wanted.

“It’s going to be a great night.” Her tone didn’t even waver from post-weeping.

Teams RWBY and JNPR just stared at her, speechless. Pyrrha forgot she was still holding onto Jaune’s arm. Ruby’s grip on her cookie hardened until it crumbled.

“You know what,” Yang announced. “I’m not hungry anymore. I’m gonna go the gym.”

“Me too,” Nora and Ren chorused, and the three fled from the hall as fast as their legs could carry them.

Ruby, Weiss and Blake said together, “Library.” They too disappeared all too quickly.

The penny had yet to drop; Peony impaled a small portion of her salad, and slid it into her mouth, savouring the taste. She chewed slowly, looking right into Jaune’s eyes. The swordsman gulped, and looked pointedly away. Pyrrha still held onto his arm. The spectators were now turning back around, but still muttered and whispered at the strange pink girl.

Peony swallowed her salad. “So, when is this movie night?” 

Jaune’s fork clumped some potato into a squat stack. “We…we don’t actually know yet.”

Pyrrha couldn’t help but gape at him. What was happening to him? He was normally so jovial, so self-assured. Even when confronting girls or people he didn’t like, he did it confidently; his issues with CRDL had helped him grow, and he’d easily dealt with Neptune during the dance. But Peony… she intimidated him more than she should. Did Jaune _know_ how to deal with overly-forward girls?

The fork fell onto the table with a clatter. “I need to get some studying done,” Jaune announced, and he and Pyrrha stood up, the latter finally releasing his arm.

“Oh! Me too!” Peony pushed her plateful of salad away, and leapt up, smile unchanging. Pyrrha’s heart sank to her knees.

_Please, just go away._

“We’re going to our dorm,” she said quickly. Jaune nodded with eagerness.

“Can’t I come?”

Pyrrha blinked. “Um… no.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not your dorm.”

_“Jaaauuunnne.”_

Before another paroxysm could occur, Pyrrha grabbed Jaune’s hand and dragged him out at a speed that could rival even Ruby’s. No scream followed them, just the odd blank stare. The adrenaline rush was so extreme that Pyrrha completely forgot that her hand was in Jaune’s.

 

“Where is the popcorn?”

Nora, perched upon her bed in a lofty pose, glared regally down at the splayed-out students on the dorm floor. 

Yang held up a paper bag. “Here.”

“Is it sweet?”

“Even better.” Yang ran a finger along the slogan. “It’s the _sweetest.”_

Squealing in delight, Nora leapt from the bed and landed far from gracefully on the floor beside Ren.

“But you’re not to eat them until we’re at least five minutes in,” her childhood friend informed, and Nora wailed in protest.

Meanwhile, Sun and Ruby had nearly completed setting up the movie apparatus. Jaune had supplied the DVD, Weiss the laptop, and Neptune the projector. The menu screen, depicting various explosive scenes involving Spruce Willis, flashed onto the white bed sheet suspended from the curtain rail. Teams RWBY, JNPR and SSSN were sprawled across JNPR’s dorm floor amongst blankets, pillows and bags of snacks and soda bottles.

Ruby hovered the mouse over the ‘Play’ option. “Everyone ready?”

“Wait.” Weiss twisted the bottle cap off some soda, the gas escaping with a loud hiss. She took a generous swig, chomped some (sweet) popcorn, and slotted herself beside Neptune. “Ok, I’m ready.”

Raising her eyebrows at her prim teammate’s sudden sugary consumption, Ruby clicked ‘Play’. The screen plunged to darkness, and the flaming, over-the-top title sequence began…

…only to be interrupted by an insistent string of knocks on the door.

It was Ruby who answered, and her uncertain “Um…” told the others immediately who it was.

“Hello,” Peony chirped. “Movie night, right?”

“Um…” Ruby said again. How had she found out? Only yesterday they’d been discussing it, and vowed not to tell anyone. “Um, _no!_ No, definitely not.”

Behind her, at least five people face-palmed.

Though she was slightly taller, Peony craned her neck to peer over Ruby’s shoulder at the snacks, huddled students and Spruce Willis’s name paused in a glorious fiery explosion.

“This is a _different_ movie night,” Ruby explained, fake grin widening a few molars. “We’re…We’re having another one…at some point. _That’s_ the one you were, um, invited to.” They could always ‘cancel’ it later.

Peony shrugged. “Well, I’m here now. So I might as well join you.”

“But–”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come to the next one too.” And she swept through the doorway as if Ruby was merely a red, autumn leaf.

The atmosphere plunged to icy and dark as soon as the flower blossomed into the room. Her eyes instantly fell on Jaune, who was, in her mind, dangerously cosy and close to Pyrrha.

“Hey, Jaune! Let’s sit at the back together.”

“Uhh…” Jaune scratched the back of his head. “I’m fine here…”

_“Jaune.”_ Her eyebrows scrunched together in hurt, and Jaune was won over for the sake of peace.

For the entirety of the movie, there were no tantrums or tears, just the odd mutter or giggle from Peony, the crunch of popcorn, or a burp from Nora. Though abandoned, even Pyrrha managed to find some enjoyment from the night – it helped that Ruby and Yang kindly invited her to sit with them, which she accepted willingly. 

All was going well – until the final forty-five minutes or so. There was a scene in which Spruce Willis and the female lead shared a steamy love scene. Many… _sounds_ were involved, and Yang covered Ruby’s eyes. Said sounds were accompanied by closer, more realistic ones.

Pinned against the back wall, was Jaune. He was ensnared in the blanket he and Peony shared, and she had her lips forcefully pushing against his.

Of all the times love had crushed her, this had to be Pyrrha’s worst. Her throat constricted, stomach knotted, and eyes burned. Peony’s attempts to make out with her best friend were succeeding – Jaune parted his lips, and she had full access to him. Furthermore, for the most part of it, his eyes were closed. At one point, they were open, looking around to see who was watching – everyone else turned the other way in embarrassment – and met Pyrrha’s. He immediately looked away, before closing them again.

Not willing to torture herself any longer, Pyrrha focused back on the film, and pulled her blanket over her head akin to a hood, in order to drown out the background noise.

_She kissed him before I could._

That fact bounced around her head, along with the memory that she was certain would haunt her nightmares. Peony moaned in pleasure, Jaune grunted, Spruce Willis and his on-screen lover made love in a shadowy bedroom.

Even fictional characters had better lives than the four-time champion.


	4. Truth or Dare? (Preferably truth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peony's being Peony, and the girls have quiet night together (minus Peony, thank goodness), in which Ruby has an idea...

The mystery as to who told Peony when it was movie night was solved the next day. 

Nobody had.

“I just happened to hear a few things here and there,” the flowery girl gabbled at breakfast. She had sidled next to Jaune before they could even sit down; she’d been watching and waiting for them.

Without raising her eyes from her tuna – yes, fish for breakfast – Blake bluntly replied, “By that, you mean actively listening to our conversations.”

Peony innocently fluttered her eyelashes. “I can’t help it.”

“Er, yes you can,” Yang answered.

Ruby leaned in and whispered to Weiss, “We’ll have to quieten our conversations from now on.”

“Agreed,” the heiress replied, glowering at Peony through narrowed eyes. “Nosy little brat.”

 

Since Peony had undeniably charged to first base with Jaune, she became all the more infuriating. It was only the day after their kiss, and she clung onto his arm wherever he went, dragged him to her desk in class, waved and blew kisses across the amphitheatre, cut across whenever anyone had the audacity to _speak_ to her Jaune, particularly a _girl!_

“You have no idea how much I want to punch her in the face,” Yang growled through gritted teeth as Peony sat with Jaune during Grimm studies, twirling her hair and inching as close as she could to him.

“Do it, I’ll hold her,” Blake replied.

Pyrrha, meanwhile, couldn’t bear to look. A girl stealing your crush was one thing, but for him to be responding made the blow excruciating. Well, Jaune wasn’t actually responding like he was completely interested; sure he nodded and offered small, polite smiles as she gabbled and flirted, but he kept his arms folded and stared mostly at the ground. _But why wasn’t he fighting back?_ He couldn’t be nurturing an interest in her, surely not!

“Oh boy…” Ruby groaned, and Pyrrha turned.

Peony and Jaune were kissing again, even as the oblivious Professor Port rambled on about something they’d lost track of. Jaune’s mouth didn’t move a lot, yet his eyes were closed. The kiss as a whole wasn’t as vigorous as last night’s, but it was just as painful to watch. 

Yang couldn’t take it anymore. Even as Professor Port was mid-speech, she leapt up and shouted, “HEY! GET A ROOM!”

Peony and Jaune were instantly wrenched apart, the former practically radiating ire, the latter a deep shade of beetroot.

“Ahem,” Professor Port coughed, one bushy eyebrow raised at Yang, who plonked herself back down. The short, moustached man resumed his ramble, and the golden-haired girl was all too aware of the relentless stares Peony burned her. 

As soon as the bell went, the flower jumped from her seat and dragged Jaune by the hand to where team RWBY were sitting. Her glower – mixed with a smirk – rained down on all four of them.

“If you must know,” she sneered, “Jaune and I are going steady.”

Four pairs of eyes widened to saucers and four mouths hung open like caverns. Jaune stared at the ground, scarlet to his ears. Peony smiled smugly, and sashayed away, her hand still firmly in her new boyfriend’s.

“I don’t even…” Ruby began.

One desk away, Pyrrha sat still as a statue. Her heart was so numb it felt that even that was stone as well. Nora slid beside her, and patted her arm.

“Are you ok?”

The champion jumped, and nodded like a lunatic. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”

Nora, and Ren behind her, raised an eyebrow.

“Even after…?”

“Don’t.” Pyrrha rose from her seat, already knowing she’d let slip her feelings, and promptly exited the classroom, alone.

_Alone, alone, alone …._

 

At least Jaune turned up for their night session. The shattered moon had watched him grow as a warrior under Pyrrha’s wing, and tonight appeared no different. The pair started with some basic sword techniques – swings, slashes, jump and slash combos, et cetera – and were now engaged in a shieldless sparring match. This they’d started the previous semester, and since then, Jaune was getting faster and more dexterous, adding spins and jumps into the mix. Pyrrha always won, but he never minded that, just so long as he was improving.

As they sparred, Pyrrha noted how different he was without Peony. Now, he was cheerful and strong-willed as ever, how he should be. With Peony, it was like his spine had completely shrivelled. Only a day ago he’d called her weird and tried to keep his distance from her. Now he kissed her back and showed no resistance to her.

For now at least, Pyrrha didn’t have to worry. Jaune was Jaune again, and had just made a very neat parry to her swing. The hit vibrated through her sword right up to her wrists.

“Very good,” she grinned, and, swept him off his feet with a swift low kick…

…or it would have done had not Jaune backflipped out of harm’s way. He grinned at her.

“Not falling for that again!”

Pyrrha chuckled, then silenced and slotted her weapon on her back under her shield.

Jaune’s face fell. “Aw, already? But we were having fun – and training well.”

“I know,” Pyrrha murmured. “But that’ll do for tonight.”

“Oh.” Jaune couldn’t mask the disappointment in his voice, and sheathed his sword. He cocked his head at her, and sank at the faraway, all too sombre look on her face. “Pyrrha,” he said gently, approaching her. “What’s the matter?”

Pyrrha exhaled a laboured sigh. She had to say it, now.

“Is it true that you and Peony are… _going steady?”_

It was Jaune’s turn to sigh. “So she says.”

Hope glimmered in Pyrrha’s eyes. “So, you don’t see her in that way?”

Jaune scratched the back of his head. “You know, I’d rather not talk about it,” he mumbled, and retreated back into the building.

Pyrrha could have stopped him, called him back, demanded that he told her everything. But she didn’t. Probably, she decided, because she was scared as to what he’d say. He could get rather angry when talking about personal matters, as she discovered when he revealed that he that he had gotten a place at Beacon via fake transcripts.

No, in the midst of everything, the last thing she wanted was an argument with Jaune on top.

 

She returned to the corridor leading to her dorm, and immediately spotted the golden and bouncing figures of Yang and Nora respectively. Both were clad in their pyjamas.  
Nora smiled and waved at Pyrrha.

“Pyrrha! Get your pyjamas on! We’re having a girls’ night in team RWBY’s dorm!”

“What…?” Pyrrha walked down the corridor to them.

“We had quite a few leftovers from last night,” Yang explained. “Thought we could all eat and socialize, girls together.”

“Will Peony be there?”

Yang through up her hands in emphasis. “Hell to the _no!”_

A small smile pinched Pyrrha’s lips. It would be like a slumber party, not that she could entirely remember what they were like given her lonely past few years.

“Alright, I’ll be with you in five.”

Around five minutes later, Pyrrha entered team RWBY’s dorm. Her deep yellow T-shirt and loose red-and-white striped bottoms were a contradiction to the tight, battle-ready armour she usually wore. Her hair was freed from its normal ponytail and tumbled down her back in a sunset red cascade.

“You should wear your hair loose more often,” Weiss observed.

Pyrrha blushed a little. “But then I wouldn’t be able to wear my coronet.”

The six of them, all in their pyjamas, sat or laid in a vague circle in the space in front of the door, propped on pillows, curled in blankets, munching snacks and slurping soda. They began the night by discussing some of Beacon’s staff, from moaning about Professor Port’s endless monologues to the creepy fat cleaner who stared at anyone who crossed her path. It then moved onto the latest gossip, the current fashion trends – with which Ruby refused to contribute – and funny stories from the past year at Beacon. 

The whole room was in agreement when Nora said, “The funniest moment in the history of Beacon is Jaune wearing a dress at the ball!”

The girls rocked in laughter at the memory, Yang pulled out her scroll to share the many pictures she had taken of the moment. Pyrrha smiled nostalgically at one particular photo of her and Jaune dancing in each other’s arms. He had worn that dress for her, kept true to his word, even though it hadn’t exactly been a real promise when he said it. He did it to cheer her up, and proceeded to be her date for the night.

Why couldn’t they relive that night again? He left the roof that night so distant and closed-up, and when she went into their dorm to change, he was at his desk with his eyes firmly on a book about the Great Faunus Revolution. As horrible as it sounded, but why couldn’t he have just let Peony fall? She would have been fine, she had aura.

Nora drained the last of her soda, and her turquoise eyes lit up as inspiration struck.

“Let’s play spin-the-bottle-truth-or-dare-whatever-it’s-called-thingy-game!”

“Awesome!” Yang cheered.

 _“Nooooo!”_ Ruby moaned. “That's way to _girlyyyyy.”_

“Hence why it’s called “girls’ night”,” Weiss said primly.

Nora placed the empty plastic bottle in the middle of their ‘circle’, and with a sharp flick, let it spin. It wasn’t the best spin given that it was on carpet, but never the less, its cap ended up stopping at Blake.

“Truth or dare?” Nora challenged.

Blake closed her eyes with a sigh. “Truth.”

“How many guys have you kissed?”

The cat-like eyes rounded to the point where they more like a mouse’s. “How large a time scale are we talking here?”

“Your entire life.”

“Right. In that case….about five, I guess?”

“You saucy minx!” Yang laughed and crushed her faunus friend in a side hug. "Is one of them _Sun?"_

"No!" Blake laughed and gave her a playful push.

Nora span the bottle again, and it landed on Ruby.

The youngest of them all groaned. “Go on, then, dare.”

“I got one!” Yang grinned at her sister. “I dare you to knock on team JNPR’s door, and whichever boy answers, you hug. And you’re not allowed to say anything.”

Ruby scowled, but accepted the challenge. At least it was the JNPR boys and not CRDL or anyone else. When she knocked on their door, it was Ren who answered. Without a word, Ruby slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him.

Ren didn’t move at all. After a solid minute or so, he finally spoke.

“You’re playing truth or dare, aren’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

Ruby nodded against his chest.

“It was Nora’s idea, wasn’t it?”

“The game, not this dare.”

Yang shouted through their door, “We heard you speak, Ruby!”

Ruby released Ren and marched back into her dorm. “I only answered a question!”

Yang shook her golden locks. “Sorry, sis. You spoke and failed the dare. Now you must face the forfeit.”

Ruby folded her arms. “And what is this forfeit?”

Yang grabbed another empty bottle, and poured several different types of soda into it to make some sort of fizzy concoction. She handed it to Ruby.

“I have to drink this?” said the fifteen-year-old, her face lighting up at the challenge. It was only a mixture of soda, it couldn’t be that bad.

“No. you’ve got to pour a bit into your hair.”

 _“What?”_ Ruby squealed, and the other girls exchanged horrified looks. Now they certainly couldn’t afford to lose a dare.

After some cautious pouring, a little of the mixture now cling in a portion of Ruby’s hair, sticky and sweet smelling. She had purposely poured it on the section of hair closest to her mouth so she could chew on it and suck out some of the soda.

The game raged on. Weiss was dared to howl like a beowolf out of the window for all of Beacon to hear. Nora had to fit as many pieces of candy in her mouth, and the bottle immediately chose her again to which she chose truth and had to confess that she was the reason why the vending machine hardly ever had anything sugary in them anymore. Yang was dared to snip off a lock of her hair, which she refused and faced her own forfeit with a grimace.

Then it was Pyrrha’s turn.

“Dare,” she said. If she said ‘truth’, she knew exactly what Nora would ask of her.

“I dare you,” Nora said, “to tell us who you like.”

Pyrrha bit her bottom lip.

“And by ‘like’,” Yang added, “we mean _like_ like.”

“Oh, as in _lurve_ like?” Ruby giggled.

“Precisely.”

Pyrrha stared down at her knotted fingers. Dang it, Nora, finding a way round things and probably conspiring with Yang for this moment.

“Your silence only proves that you _do_ like someone,” Blake pointed out with a sly smile.

Pyrrha shrugged, her cheeks rosying. “It’s not a big deal…”

“Oh, I think it is,” said Weiss. “I think I’ve worked out who it is, and I think it is a big deal. You _love_ this individual.”

“Wait.” Ruby cast her team a confused look. “Who are we talking about?”

“Think back to the dance.”

The penny dropped. Ruby’s silver eyes widened, and her gasp was like a vacuum cleaner. “Oh my God!” she cried. “You’re in love with _Jaune?”_

Weiss clamped her hand over her leader’s mouth. “Not so loud!” she hissed. “We have to respect her feelings and not tell anyone.”

At this, Pyrrha shot a green-eyed glare at Nora. The normally bubbly returned with a rare, solemn look.

“I thought it was about time we helped you,” she said.

Pyrrha leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. Hearing Ruby say it out loud had made it hurt more. Made it more _real._

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m starting to care less and less now anyway.”

“That’s a big fat lie,” Nora cut in. “You’ve never cared more. Especially since Peony’s arrival.”

“That is true,” Yang agreed. “I mean, the way you look at them when they’re together, you’d think you were a pervert!”

Blake nudged her sharply in the ribs.

Pyrrha’s eyes peeled open. “I know it’s bad of me to…to think of my team leader in that way…”

“It’s fine, Pyrrha.” Ruby offered her a friendly smile. “You can’t help falling for someone. But you can help how you deal with it. Speaking of which…” The leader of team RWBY stood up, and gazed down at her attentive teammates and wing-teammates. “It’s a very good thing we’ve gotten onto this topic, as it’s about time we addressed a very big problem – Peony Bloom.”

“I guess we’ve just been trying not to think about her tonight,” said Blake. “Not letting her dominate our thoughts and conversations like she clearly dominates Jaune.”

“About that. Pyrrha,” Ruby turned to the red-haired champion. “Thank God you confessed. It’s made things very clear as to what we need to do. See, you need a Cupid that ain’t stupid, and that Cupid is us.”

Pyrrha’s face clouded with doubt. “I think I’d rather you didn’t get involved.”

“We have to, because it’ll all be part of Operation Peony’s Removal.”

“Can’t that proceed without the hooking-up part?”

“But it wouldn’t be right!”

“Ruby has a point,” Blake contributed. “Like the perfect story, for a sense of closure for everyone, we need to get Jaune a match. It’s especially essential now that we know of your feelings for him.”

“Exactly!” Ruby’s tone grew more and more excitable and passionate as she went on. “The more I think about it, the more it seems…so _right!_ You two would just _work!_ You’d be a much better match than Peony or even Weiss.”

“Can’t argue with that,” the Ice Queen commented drily.

“Come _on,_ Pyrrha!” Ruby begged. “We can help you! We _want_ you two to be together!”

“I appreciate that,” Pyrrha muttered. “But I’d rather you left this to me. I can deal with it alone.”

“But it’ll be part of getting rid of Peony! We could get revenge on her for you!”

Pyrrha’s tone hardened. “You can do that without involving my love life!”

The five girls stared at her, a wash of expressions; surprise, sympathy, hurt. Pyrrha stood up, towering over her friends, the tallest of them all yet the most vulnerable.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I can deal with my problems alone. Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun.” She wrenched the door open.

“Tell us if you change your mind!” Ruby called after her, and JNPR’s door slammed shut. She turned back to the remaining girls with a defeated sigh. Another night of social activity, in tatters thanks to Peony. And Pyrrha. If only she could give them a chance…

“Probably time for bed,” Weiss suggested, and began tidying up the empty bottles and discarded wrappers with Blake.

Ruby hid her face in her hands. “Did I go too far?”

“No,” Yang draped an arm around her. “Pyrrha was just being stubborn. I think she’s scared of it all you know. Probably doesn’t quite know how to deal with it.”

“You’re probably right,” Nora sang as she skipped to the door. “Night, everyone!”

Ruby held out a hand. “Nora, wait!”

The orange-haired girl turned.

“Tell Pyrrha I’m sorry,” said Ruby.

Nora saluted. “We’ll do.” The door swung shut behind her.

Yang patted her younger sister’s shoulder. “Pyrrha will come round. She’ll realise she can’t do it alone eventually. Mark my words, sis.”


	5. Pink and Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fight scene time! Plus, Peony's weapon and semblance.

Things began to escalate the next day, and Pyrrha was not amused.

Peony continued holding onto Jaune, giving him swift kisses and sitting by him during lunch or classes, but today she had a study period with them too. Jaune was quite clearly writing a history essay. His ‘girlfriend’ still had the audacity to skip over to him and drag him to her table, because she needed help with her math homework. It was a well-known fact that Jaune’s math skills were a good two years ahead of everyone else – since combat schools didn’t focus on academic subjects such as that, Jaune had finally found something useful in himself from going to a city school – and he was in popular demand for such assistance.

Why huntsmen and huntresses at Beacon needed things like math and geography (as in river and coastal erosion) was a mystery to many of the students.

Never the less, Jaune sat with Peony at her table, trying to explain how to expand brackets. She, on the other hand, was not listening, and twirled a lock of brown hair in one hand, and clasped Jaune’s in the other.

Pyrrha tried not to stare, especially after what Yang had said last night. After Nora told her of Ruby’s apology, the red-head was swiftly back on friendly terms with team RWBY, though she still expressed her reprimand to Ruby’s Cupid plan.

The bar was raised again when Jaune turned up late for night sparring. By a full half-an-hour.

“Sorry,” the blond boy puffed, clearly having ran to the rooftop. “I tried to leave in good time, but Peony had Biology homework in for tomorrow and I needed to help with that but it took longer than I expected because I needed to re-explain myself over and over again.” He sucked in large gulps of air after his babble, before drawing his blade. “So, ready?”

Pyrrha managed a strained smile. “Ready.”

After this, how many more times would he be late? How much later would he become? Eventually, he could stop turning up at all…

Maybe Ruby’s idea might be just the thing they needed?

 

Combat class the following day thankfully did not include any vanishing sweaters. What it did consist of, though, was the fight teams RWBY, JNPR and SSSN wanted to see.

Another defeat on Sky Lark’s belt, and Weiss minced back to her seat, smirking. Professor Goodwitch tapped the data into her scroll.

“Alright, everyone,” she said, her voice echoing around the amphitheatre. “Another one on one match is in order, I think. Who hasn’t fought yet this week…” She ran her finger along the screen to sift through the names. “Ah. Peony Bloom.”

The girl in question waved. Her teammates – team POPI, Sun said they were called – showed little reaction. 

“Let’s have you fighting at last, Miss Bloom,” said Goodwitch, and flicked through the list of names and statistics again. “Now, let’s find you an opponent.”

“Pyrrha will do it!”

Goodwitch’s green eyes snapped up. Yang beamed down at her, holding Pyrrha’s wrist aloft.

The professor sighed. “Very well then. Pyrrha Nikos versus Peony Bloom.”

Standing slowly up, Pyrrha threw Yang a confused look.

The golden-haired girl grinned at her. “You called dibs, remember?”

“Oh, yeah…”

“Kick her ass, Nikos!” Sun whooped. “Not literally, unless you wanted to.”

“I don’t…”

“Go all out on her like you did with CRDL!” Ruby chirped.

“I…”

“We know you’ll win,” Weiss added. “Just make it a devastating defeat for her.”

“Uh…”

Finally, Pyrrha’s eyes met Jaune’s. Her team leader offered a supportive smile.

“Just be Pyrrha,” he said. “You know – mind-blowingly awesome.”

Pyrrha ginned, and performed a very Nora-like salute. “We’ll do.”

 

Two girls, two rivals, two colours faced each other from either side of the arena. Pyrrha raised her shield in front of her torso in a defensive stance, left foot forward, knees slightly bent. Milo was in its spear form, and by her side, ready to strike.

Peony’s hands were at the hilt of her weapons, which were still attached to her lower back and in their compact form. The expression on her face was cold and calculating, and perhaps a little intimidated.

“Begin!” Goodwitch called offside, and Peony leapt into the air. She flew to Pyrrha, span and unsheathed her weapons – too quick for Pyrrha to see. The champion raised her shield at an angle to protect her head, and two pink slashes hit the metal. Peony flipped a few feet away, weapons ready in a provocative stance. Pyrrha peeked at them from under her shield.

_Fans?_

Bloomed and pink like half a flower each, the fans were large enough to easily cover Peony’s torso, and the shaft from where they flared appeared to be a pistol.

An interesting choice of weapon, Pyrrha thought. But then, Ruby fought with a gardening tool.

Peony restarted the assault, spinning with her lethal fans, the pink slashes scraping along Pyrrha’s shield, and the champion swung her spear low to knock the flower off her feet. Peony leapt back up, and before she had time to recompose herself, Milo struck her in sword form. Peony fell back, flipped, and shot at Pyrrha with her pistol fans. Pink dust bullets struck the shield, and in rifle form, Milo launched its own assault. Spinning and slashing, the fans blocked and reflected the attacks, shots scattering in all directions. Pyrrha then raised her shield to cover her neck to her stomach, and charged.

“Come on, Pyrrha!” Ruby urged under her breath. Team RWBY watched the battle, hands clasped in each other’s for support, the most attentive since Pyrrha against team CRDL.  
Peony clawed and pirouetted and fought rather like a very angry ballerina. Pyrrha relentlessly blocked the strikes, and stabbed or swung with Milo whenever she saw an opening. As Peony twirled, she did so with her fans facing outwards, one on each side of her. As soon as one fan hit Akouo, Pyrrha struck her with Milo within the millisecond the flower was exposed. She fell back, and was struck again.

Magenta eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, and Semblance activated. A hurricane of pink petals burst from Peony’s body, ripping towards Pyrrha and engulfed her. The storm filled her vision with a pink blizzard, and she raised her shield to her face to protect her head. An assault of petals would have been rather nice if these ones didn’t _hurt._ They scratched her skin as if they were thorns, tiny streaks of red criss-crossed her bare shoulders. Ignoring the sting, Pyrrha blindly ran against the wind in the direction of its source. The wind changed direction, meaning that Peony had, and Pyrrha gave chase. The petals disintegrated and her legs were struck by more pink. The red-head stumbled back, regained herself, executed a backward somersault and simultaneously shot at Peony. Once again the shots were reflected, but at least the storm of petals was gone now.

As the two locked in fierce battle, team RWBY whispered to each other.

“ _That_ was her semblance?” Blake breathed. “I admit, I’m jealous.”

“She’s a lot more… _capable_ than I thought she would be,” said Weiss.

From his seat, Jaune bit his nails, examining every detail of the fight between his girlfriend and his best friend. He hadn’t liked the look of Peony’s semblance, it had really made Pyrrha falter. He had watched her silhouette in a dome of swirling pink flakes, bravely running against it, desperately wishing he could pull her out.

Metal clanged and slashes whooshed. Peony tried to jab her fans between Akouo and Pyrrha’s arm, bringing them closer than either of them would like. So, Peony stamped on Pyrrha’s toe, Pyrrha kneed Peony in the stomach (pain enhanced thanks to her knee guards) and Peony released her, stumbling back.

The dainty flower wore a ferocious grimace. She raised her fans again – and one was snatched from her hand. She turned in shock. Her left fan was impaled on the wall, a red spear pinning it in place. Peony’s eyes burned at Pyrrha, and she ran forward. That was when Akouo cut through air like a discus and tore the remaining fan from her grip. Both landed far away. 

Howling a furious battle cry, Peony ran forward, fists clenched. Pyrrha jumped, and mid spin delivered two satisfying kicks, right into the flower’s face. The pink girl face-planted the ground.

“That’s the match.” Goodwitch marched forward, tapping the data into her scroll. Cheering erupted from RWBY, JNPR and SSSN’s part of the stands, and Pyrrha beamed at them. Even Jaune looked pleased and applauded.

“Impressive as ever, Miss Nikos,” the combat professor congratulated, and jabbed the wilted girl a pointed look. “Good use of Semblance, Miss Bloom, but beware of your stance and any openings.”

The victor sauntered over to her discarded weapons. Peony sat up, and scowled. 

“You kneed me in the _womb!”_

Pyrrha narrowed her vivid green eyes. “It was the stomach. And you stamped my toe.” She collected her weapons – without using her polarity Semblance as they weren’t already moving. That made her realise that she’d won the battle without any usage of her Semblance. She’d done that before, but this particular time round she glowed at that thought. For once, she allowed herself to be a little conceited over her victory.

She received a hero’s welcome back at the stands. Team RWBY shook her hand and patted her back, SSSN cheered and laughed at the finishing move. Nora hugged her and recounted in a breathless gabble the entire battle, while Ren calmly but happily corrected her. Then Jaune just grinned, congratulated her, and folded her in a brief but warm hug.  
It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it made Pyrrha’s heart grow wings and sore around the entire amphitheatre.

_He doesn’t consider Peony to be his girlfriend. He’s happy I defeated her. He’s HUGGING ME FOR IT!_

That was one of the three things that happened during those quick seconds. The second thing was Ruby fist pumping. The third was a dagger-like glare from Peony in the arena. First Pyrrha Nikos had humiliated her, now she was _hugging_ her boyfriend.

It was in those seconds that Peony decided that she did not like this red-haired warrior at all.

The bell crowed, and chattering students filed out, Goodwitch’s voice rising above them all to remind them that their combat theory essays were due in the next day. The three teams exited the amphitheatre into warm daylight, still babbling about the fight.

Then, a piercing scream soared through the air like a javelin.

“What the–” Neptune began as the twelve of them spun round.

Peony leaned against the wall, clutching her stomach, panting. Her team, though not her biggest fans, were good enough to worry about her.

“What’s wrong?” their red-clad leader, Poppy, asked, hand on Peony’s shoulder.

“Oh, my stomach! No, my _womb!_ Pyrrha kicked it so hard I could be bleeding, like a haemorrhage period! I could be infertile!”

Weiss’s face contorted in disgust. “That is just… _no.”_

“I don’t think it’s even possible,” Blake mumbled.

The other floral members of team POPI – Orchid and Iris – helped Peony off the wall.

“Maybe you should go and see the nurse?” Orchid suggested

“Ohh, I hurt so _much!”_ Peony wailed, and her eyes locked on Jaune. “Oh, Jaune! There you are! Please, help me!”

Jaune faltered, glancing between her and his friends.

“Don’t do it,” Weiss hissed, casting him a frosty glare. “She’s putting on a show for you.”

_“Jaunnnnnne!”_

The familiar, ominous whine won Jaune over, and with a small groan, he strode over to his waning girlfriend. Peony wrestled herself out of her teammates’ grip, and fell into Jaune’s arms. They stumbled away with the rest of POPI, Peony exaggerating a laboured hobble.

Ruby slid next to Pyrrha. “You know, the offer’s still open.”

The champion sighed. “The Cupid thing?”

“Uh-huh.”

Pyrrha gazed down at her hands. Her heart had lost its wings and plummeted back into her rib cage, like that boy in the old Mistral tales who flew too close to the sun. Maybe it was about time she did something…

Reluctantly, she gave in. “Fine. Do it. But nothing stupid or embarrassing.”

“YES!” Ruby punched the air. “Don’t worry, Pyrrha! We won’t let you down. We’re the Cupid who ain’t stupid, remember?”

“So you say…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did consider having Peony's weapon be a spade, but then i though fans would match her flamboyant character a bit better, plus they'd allow her to move more in a fancy-prancy-dancy type fashion (quote from Ruby, volume 2 ep 6).  
> Also, i hope i'm succeeding by making Peony Bloom the most annoying and inappropriate person you could come across.


	6. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune spends the longest amount of time away from Peony as he has a day out with his team and Ruby's at the Vytal Festval.

Pyrrha knew that it would only be a matter of time before Jaune started missing their nightly sessions, and two days after her battle with Peony, it finally happened.

She waited for him, clinging onto some optimistic hope that he would come, reminding herself of how happy he was for her victory, and how he’d hugged her. A full hour passed, during which Pyrrha watched the orbs of green light bubbling in the Beacon tower like a lava lamp, or gazed up at the stars, trying to remember how they looked in Mistral. Certain constellations she could see now would still be hidden from her father for at least four more months. 

When the hour was up, it was quite clear that Jaune wasn’t coming, and Pyrrha returned to her dorm, heavily deflated.

Jaune had been becoming a lot scarcer lately, as Peony insisted that he sat with her rather than her sitting with him. Even at lunch, he could no longer sit with his own team without it prompting a puerile protest from her. He hung out with her after school, returned to his dorm late… It was that episode with Cardin all over again.

As he was scarcer, he also became more apologetic. This he hadn’t been when Cardin enslaved him two semesters ago, simply because he hardly talked back then and felt too guilty and depressed to. Here, Jaune acted pretty much as normal when he returned, apologised for his untimely arrival, and everything was back to normal.

But missing night sparring was the final straw.

He finally returned that night a full fifty minutes after Pyrrha. 

“I am so sorry!” he began as soon as he entered the dorm. “I shouldn’t have missed sparring. I was with Peony and, well it was my fault really, I–”

“Jaune.” Pyrrha’s calm yet regal tone cut across him, and he clamped his mouth shut. She’d had time to shower and change into her pyjamas since she came back, and now sat on her bed reading one of Jaune’s _X-Ray and Vav_ comics; he allowed her to borrow them whenever she wanted, and after this particular instance, she certainly felt she was entitled to. She snapped the comic shut. “What’s going on?”

Jaune ran a hand through his messy blond hair, and sat on his bed, facing her. “She didn’t want me to leave,” he said simply.

“Did _you?”_

“Well… I’d much rather have been sparring at that moment in time…”

“Then tell her that. Which is more important – your training or your girlfriend?”

Jaune swallowed. “Training.”

“Precisely.” Pyrrha’s tone hadn’t been harsh, but it was cool enough to belittle him. “It’s been nearly a week since Peony…entered our lives, and in that time she’s got you on a leash just like Cardin first semester.”

Jaune frowned. “But…I wasn’t dating Cardin.” He shuddered at the idea.

“With Cardin it was because he threatened to tell everyone of your…situation. But with Peony, only a couple of days ago you said you didn’t see her as you’re girlfriend.”

That statement received a scowl. “I never actually said that.”

“You implied it.” Pyrrha heaved a sigh. “Jaune, I don’t know what’s happened to you. After Cardin, you wouldn’t let anyone treat you like this. Please, tell me why you let Peony push you around.”

The boy flopped on his bed with a groan. “Haven’t you seen her react if I say no?”

Pyrrha raised a dubious eyebrow. “It’s more than that, isn’t it? We can deal with screaming, we just go away from it – or let Yang punch her. So long as we stand up against her together we’re fine, and you know it.”

Jaune’s gloved hands rubbed his face. “Yes, I do know.”

“So what’s the problem? Has she been saying things to you?” She perched on the edge of her bed to lean across the aisle and touch his arm. “You know you can tell me. You can tell me anything, you’ve told me a lot of things as I have you.”

The blue eyes screwed shut. “Well, this I can’t.”

Pyrrha’s ears pricked up. So there was something more. “Yes you can. You’re my best friend, I’d never–”

 _“Especially_ my best friend.” His eyes snapped open again, and burned at Pyrrha. “Can you please stop it now?”

Taken aback, Pyrrha retreated to her bed, expression pained. “Please let me help you! It’s first semester all over again!”

“No, Pyrrha!” Jaune snapped. He sat up and glared at her. “This is something only I can do alone, and it’s totally different from first semester because… because…” He hid his face in his hands and groaned, loudly. For a heart-wrenching moment Pyrrha thought he was about to cry, and actually sat petrified on her bed against the wall, worried that he’d just push her away if she tried to comfort him. Thank goodness Ren and Nora were out making evening pancakes. 

Jaune stopped groaning, and his face emerged from his hands. He continued, voice cracking, “I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. I’ll tell you when I’ve sorted everything out, but in the meantime, _stay out of it.”_

Scathed and stung, Pyrrha nodded, and wiped away a tear. But that was replaced by another tear, and another, and another, until the liquid was streaming down her cheeks at such a speed she could no longer hide them. She shoulders shook, and she hiccupped a sob.

Hearing this, Jaune gaped at her in horror. Pyrrha Nikos was crying. Pyrrha _never_ cried, she was normally so strong. Yet here she was, crying real tears for him, and his heart panged.

The sobs were unstoppable now, and Pyrrha’s face was flushed to match her hair, from the weeping and embarrassment. She hugged her legs to her body and buried her face in her knees…and felt a strong pair of arms wrap around her.

“Please don’t cry,” Jaune whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

Pyrrha wiped her eyes again. “I…just wish I…c-could help youuuu,” she gasped between sobs.

“You can help me by staying out of it,” Jaune murmured. “Trust me.”

But it wasn’t enough. Pyrrha wanted to stand and fight with him, protect him. How could doing nothing be of any use?

With his thumb, Jaune swept a tear from her cheek. “You know, it’s Saturday tomorrow. I haven’t made any solid plans with Peony, so I was thinking, maybe you and I could go to the Vytal Festival?”

Pyrrha raised her head at the suggestion, instantly perked up. “Really?”

“Sure.”

The weeping champion managed a short laugh and a smile. “We could all go then. Your friends really miss you, you know. You’re a popular guy.”

“Heh.” Jaune loosened his grip so she could see his smug grin. “Wish I could show all the jocks at my old school!”

 

They left the next morning as early as possible. Peony would come knocking for Jaune at some point, and it was in their best interest to make sure he was far, far away when she did. Teams RWBY and JNPR left for Vale, adorned in their casual wear.

Weiss looked at Pyrrha critically. “For a Mistral girl, you’re fashion taste is very… _informal.”_ She referred to how Neptune wore the coolest attire and always had the latest fashions and best brands, and dressed in a way that Valeans would consider semi-formal.

Pyrrha shuffled in her vest top and jeans. “After wearing armour, clothes such as these are always a welcome prospect. Plus, I do tend to obey the Mistral fashions a little more when I’m actually there.”

With the tournament due to be held very soon, the parades were grander and crowds larger and stands more plentiful. Nora was quick to spot and run to the cotton candy machine, Ren in hot pursuit as she hadn’t got any Lien.

A marching band blasted along the road, followed by acrobats and dancers. The crowd roared and applauded. Ruby complained that she couldn’t see since they were at the back, and Jaune allowed her to sit on his shoulders for a better view; she was light enough, and wore leggings under her skirt. Ren and Nora returned, both armed with fluffy clouds of cotton candy, Nora’s significantly the larger of the two.

The eight of them watched some more of the parade – which included fire-eaters, stilt-walkers, street dancers and more – before heading to the stalls. 

“Oooh! They didn’t have a Hook-a-Duck last weekend!” Ruby squealed from her perch, and directed Jaune to the aquatic stall. Gaudy foil balloons bobbed on strings, securely tied down, fluffy animals suspended from the posts and the roof, while rubber ducks lifelessly paddled in a pool in the centre of the hexagonal stall. Ruby slid off Jaune, deposited the required amount of Lien to the burly stallholder, and with the long hook given to her, tried to capture a duck. 

Yang regarded the cuddly toys in uncertainty. “Ruby, aren’t you a little old for this stuff?”

“It’s not the toys I’m after,” her sister replied through clenched teeth.

Blake laid a hand on Yang’s shoulder, and pointed up. _“That’s_ what she wants.”

“Ahh.” 

The corgi balloon that looked like Zwei floated above them, its doggy grin and soft eyes making it understandably cute enough for Ruby to want it.

Three minutes later, and a duck hung from Ruby’s hook. The balloon was awarded to her, and she skipped away with her friends like a little girl.

“If I win a balloon,” Yang remarked, “I’ll just suck out all the helium.”

Just like last weekend, the group tried their hand at as many of the stalls as they could afford. Nora won at the basketball hoops, Pyrrha thrashed the competition at the coconut shy, and Blake floored the shooting range. After that, they came across a pair of flashing, multi-coloured stages, a screen before each depicting several dance scenarios. Above them, blared the words “Dance Dance Evolution.”

Jaune turned to smirk at the group. “Anyone wanna take me on?”

Yang laughed confidently. “Bring it on!”

The two blonds stepped onto the stages, distributed Lien in the slots, chose a song, and the dance battle began. “Caffeine” blasted out of the speakers, the six spectators gathered round and bounced on the balls of their feet at the riveting opening bass riff. Expert dancers flashed on the screen, showing the competitors what to do, while arrows indicated where their feet should tread. The two teenagers danced almost as flawlessly as the ones on screen. The choreography was difficult and strung together at a fast pace, and required movement from the entire body. Yang had learnt dances like this thanks to the many clubs she’d forced her way into, under-aged or otherwise. Jaune had seven sisters and learned through them, and was currently in the lead. The two span, kicked, rocked their bodies, sometimes making an error or two but nothing major. 

The dance came to a close, and the pair were left panting and sweating. Jaune was victorious by a whole fifty points. 

They shook hands, Yang ruffling his hair, and leapt down from the stages to their friends’ cheers and congrats. Jaune practically glowed to the point where it was as if his aura was shining through, and not euphoria. As they headed away, he and Pyrrha linked arms and joked and chattered as if the past week had been their average, essay-filled, lecture-crammed, run-of-the-mill week, without peonies or any type of flower – except roses, in the form of Ruby.

As the group explored more of the stalls, they eventually passed by another raised stage, only this one larger, and featured an entire rock band. The heavy beat vibrated deep in their chests, and the flawless singing soared above adoring cheers in a catchy tune, while drums quickened the pace and guitars added texture. It was an upbeat song, and Jaune couldn’t help himself.

“Come on, Pyrrha! Let’s dance!”

Before his friend could object, he held both her hands and span with her, let go of one hand and held the other high to let her twirl, and their hands clasped again as their bodies synchronized the other’s jaunty movements.

Nora clutched Ren’s arm with an excited squeal. “This is totally happening!”

Yang and Blake linked arms and joined the energetic dance, while Weiss tapped her heeled foot with the beat. Ruby, meanwhile, just looked bewildered and out of place in the pulsating crowd. She would have been hard to spot if it weren’t for her Zwei balloon above her. She remained amongst her friends, standing out as the only one who wasn’t moving, and since she wasn’t distracted by dance moves, she was the one who spotted pink a few feet away.

Peony had her back to them, and the crowd acted as a barrier between her and the two teams rendering it unlikely for them to spot her soon. But none the less, they had to move.

She alerted her team, then Ren and Nora, these six immediately agreeing to the plan, and ran ahead deep into the crowd. With Jaune she would have to be a bit more subtle, to avoid him from going to his girlfriend out of guilt – she knew he’d do it.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted the energetic couple. “I’ve found a really cool looking stall down back there. We’re all gonna go and check it out.”

“That’s cool,” Jaune panted, face aglow with glee. “We’ll wait for you here.”

“No, I think you should come with us!” Ruby craned her neck to peer through the crowd. She could still see pink, and she swore it was closer.

“We’ll be fine here,” Jaune replied. Pyrrha was too happy and immersed in the dance to speak.

Peony was in the crowd now, and scanning it like a predator hunting its prey. This was bad, and Ruby couldn’t contain herself.

“You know, Jaune, this is the happiest any of us has seen you all week and we don’t want it to end. Therefore we highly recommend that you come with us.”

Jaune’s smile melted away and he stopped dancing to stare at her. Pyrrha halted too, and spotted the danger. 

“Yes, Jaune, I think we should go with them.”

Jaune looked at her. “But–”

“But nothing!” Ruby cried, grasping his hand and yanking him into a run, her Semblance activating a little to add some force. Pyrrha still held his other hand, and clutched his arm with her free hand as Ruby accelerated. 

After much pushing and shoving and scattering of rose petals, the three made it to the other side of the crowd. There was no pink flowery girl in sight. Ruby went to retrieve the others, Pyrrha still held Jaune’s arm, while Ruby’s words echoed around Jaune’s head like a relentless broken record.

“Is it true what she said?” he asked. “About me being the happiest I have been all week?”

Pyrrha closed her eyes, and her own head plagued by the echoing words of her best friend from the previous night, her answer was reluctant but honest. “Yes.”

Jaune exhaled deeply, and rubbed his forehead. Pyrrha leant her head on his shoulder, relieved that he didn’t shake her off, and that Peony hadn’t spotted them.

 

 

Or so she thought.

Peony Bloom glimpsed the red-haired warrior running into the crowd, firmly holding onto Jaune’s arm and hand. A venomous feeling swelled within her, but she didn’t chase after them. Plotting her revenge was a far more productive and satisfying activity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dance Dance Evolution...see what i did there? ;)
> 
> God bless you, Mony Oum, you wonderful person.


	7. Lip Gloss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peony gets revenge on Pyrrha, and Jaune grows a pair.

Monday reared its ugly head again, plucking weary students from well-earned rests and promising another week’s worth of homework, studies and essays. At least Pyrrha was feeling optimistic and as if she could tackle any pile of paper and text the professors chucked at her. Throughout the entire weekend, Jaune hadn’t seen nor even spoken about Peony. Sunday was spent in Vale again, and this time no sign of the pink flower. Jaune acted more like himself, and everyone was just generally happier.

Breakfast was blessedly quiet and cheerful; Peony didn’t come to drag Jaune away, nor did she squish next to him at the table, nor were her screams heard… _anywhere._

“Perhaps she’s finally taken a hint?” said Yang, tone hopeful.

Ruby gasped. “Jaune, have you dumped her?”

“Uh…” was all Jaune managed to say before a cool and calm voice cut across.

“Morning, guys.” Coco, the leader of team CFVY, stood at the head of their table. Even in her uniform she still insisted on wearing her trademark beret. Her teammate, Velvet, a shy rabbit faunus, shuffled behind her, long ears twitching.

“Hey, guys,” Ruby beamed. “What’s up?”

“One thing,” Coco replied not nearly as cheerily, and her brown eyes locked on Pyrrha. “Hey, Nikos. You should totally go and check your locker.”

Pyrrha blinked in bemusement. “Why?”

“Well, it’s…” Velvet timidly tried to get the words out. “It’s… Well, someone’s…done something to it…”

Shrouded by a sudden foreboding air, Pyrrha abandoned her cereal and walked at a brisk pace out of the hall. Her team and RWBY followed, the latter having prophesized what could have happened. They burst into the locker rooms, where a small crowd of students, most half-dressed in their battle gear as combat class was first lesson, gathered in one particular section. Gulping, Pyrrha approached them. They were looking at _her_ locker!

The students whispered and mumbled, a couple at the back noticed her presence, alerted the others, and they dispersed. What they were staring at was revealed.

“Oh…” Ruby breathed.

“…my…” Weiss gasped.

 _“God!”_ Yang blurted.

While all the lockers stood in identical rows, pristine and dutiful as Atlesian mechanical soldiers, Pyrrha’s stood out like one with a screw loose. Angrily scrawled across it in deep pink were a whole range of derogatory words. _Thief, slut, red-haired whore, ugly bitch, giant…_

“Oh, Pyrrha!” Jaune gasped. “I’m so sorry. Only a real loser would do something like that!”

“It’s not your fault.” Pyrrha’s voice was barely a whisper. Something icy cold, like Weiss’s rapier, had struck her in the stomach, and she could barely speak. Her heart raced yet she felt frozen, and her face had paled dramatically.

“Are you alright, Pyrrha?” Blake asked in concern, catching her elbows in fear of her fainting.

The fiery red ponytail swung as Pyrrha shook her head to clear her mind. “I’m fine,” she mumbled. A Nikos was brave, a Nikos could face anything. They didn’t cry, they didn’t faint, _they were not feeble._ “I suppose I should get something to clean it off.” And she trotted away, arms hugged against her stomach. Nora followed her out of sympathy.

Stepping forward, Weiss scrutinized the graffiti. “Lip gloss,” she announced.

“And I can smell perfume,” Blake added, her sensitive nostrils twitching at the scent. “Whoever did this was here recently.”

“Well, three guesses who,” Yang retorted sarcastically, and Jaune clamped his hand to his forehead, groaning.

“I can’t _believe_ she’s done this!” he cried. “How _could_ she? She _knows_ Pyrrha’s my best friend!”

Ruby exchanged glances with her team. “Perhaps that’s just it?” she suggested.

“You know what, it doesn’t matter why!” Jaune snapped. “What matters is that it’s happened at all, and she’s gone way too far, and I’ve had enough.” 

“Jaune.” Ren laid a calm hand on his friend’s trembling shoulder. “Are you saying you’re going to…?”

“Yes, Ren.” Jaune’s deep blue eyes burned with fury, protectiveness, and devastation. “And I’m going to talk to her _right now.”_

The tall leader of team JNPR stormed out of the room, pulling the door with an uncharacteristic slam.

Ren and team RWBY gazed after him, some gaping, others calmly observing.

And then Yang: “Well, you can mess with Jaune Arc, but mess with his friends and you’re toast.”

 

In her dorm, Peony simpered at her reflection in her compact mirror. Her team were in the dining hall; she didn’t need breakfast, most of that cereal was fattening. A stump of lip gloss lay discarded in the trash can – she couldn’t possibly use it after it had touched that _girl’s_ belongings – and she opened a brand new one. Sparkly pink smeared along her lips, cherry flavour. 

Three brisk, thumping knocks thundered against the door. Peony daintily slipped off her bed and answered it.

Jaune Arc’s storm cloud face rained down on her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice was dangerously low, and trembled in fury. Peony’s innocently rounded eyes only spurred his anger even more. “How can you do that to Pyrrha? She’s my best friend! How could you be so horrible?”

Peony cocked her head to one side like an inquisitive puppy. “How could I do what?”

“You know very well what!” Jaune lashed. “But you know what, I’m not even going to go into detail and get you to confess because you’ll only deny it all. I know what you did, and it was sick-minded thing to and I never want to see you again!”  
Rant over, Jaune panted and quivered, but didn’t regret a single word he said. Not even when Peony’s face screwed into its tell-tale pre-paroxysm grimace.

“You’re breaking up with me?” she squeaked, and sniffled.

Jaune snorted. “We weren’t even together.”

“Yes we were! We kissed, and held hands! We were an item…” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she breathed in…

“Don’t bother screaming, it won’t work!” Jaune snapped. “You need to stop acting like a kid!”

 _“Please_ stay with me!” she bawled, and reached out to him but he backed away. _“Jaaaauuuunnne!_ Please, I LOVE YOOOUUUU!”

“Goodbye, Peony,” said Jaune, heart steeled, and turned to leave. “Next time you go out with someone, don’t use their friends as a weapon to keep them with you.” 

Peony dried her eyes and flung a vengeful glare at his retreating back. “I’ll get you all for this! Pyrrha especially!”

Jaune turned at the end of the corridor. “Leave Pyrrha out of this! If you’re angry at anyone, it should be me!”

“It’s because I love you too much!”

The boy shook his blond head, and disappeared behind the corner. No scream or flower girl followed him this time. He left the exchange students’ block with a miniscule part of him feeling bad for speaking to Peony the way he had, but it was heavily outweighed by his anger for her and his compassion for Pyrrha.

 

A team effort from the girls saw that not a trace of lip gloss graffiti remained on the locker by first lesson. This and her friends’ support had cheered Pyrrha up significantly, the only downside being that they had missed most of breakfast. Then Jaune returned, and breakfast was the least of their worries.

He strode back into the locker room, calm but a little flushed, relaxing at the sight of Pyrrha’s clean locker.

Ren said simply, “So did you do it?”

Jaune plopped himself on one of the benches. “Yes.”

“Do what?” Nora inquired.

Their leader straightened his back and raised his chin. “As of five minutes ago, I am no longer affiliated with Peony Bloom, romantically or otherwise.”

Nora squealed, Ruby cheered, Yang punched the air, Blake and Weiss hugged each other. And Pyrrha almost fainted in joy.

In the midst of her babble, Nora lost all sense of punctuation. “What did you do what you say is she gone forever now tell us Jaune I’m running out of breath!”

Jaune rose from his seat. “No she’s not gone forever. She’ll do something to get back at us.”

 _“Us?”_ said Yang. “What did we do?”

The boy shrugged. “My point is, be prepared.”

Ruby narrowed her gleaming eyes, and smirked. “Oh, we will be.” She span on her heel to face the girls. “Meeting at lunch, our dorm, just us six, no boys allowed” – she beckoned to Jaune and Ren – “Be there.”

“Aww, Ruby’s arranging girly times,” Yang tormented her sister with a taunting snigger.

“Shut up, sis. Our discussion will be a far cry from painting our nails and talking about cute boys.”

Pyrrha tried not to look at Jaune for that part.

“Furthermore,” Ruby continued, “Don’t tell anyone. The last thing we need is Peony finding out. Jaune and Ren, no eavesdropping.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Jaune. Women could be very scary. Worse than Grimm. But no one could deny that facing a thousand ursai was a more favourable option than a screaming, obsessive Peony Bloom.

The war was far from over.


	8. Retaliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Peony's threat, the girls have a meeting as to what to do about it. Ruby has a few ideas, and one is put into action.

“Ladies, and no gentlemen, welcome to our lunchtime meeting.”

Ruby grinned before the window at the girls seated on either of the bottom bunks, two on each. Weiss sat as deputy on the low book case behind Ruby. The Zwei balloon watched down on them all from its anchorage at Ruby’s bedpost; it was slowly deflating.

The six of them had gobbled a miniscule lunch – much to the distress of Nora – but a packet of cookies from Ruby’s secret stash was being passed around. Nora clung onto it like Peony had Jaune, until Yang swiped it from her hands to crunch one herself.

Ruby paced up and down between the beds like a patrol guard. “Now, you may be wondering why I called you hear today.”

“We’re going to talk about Peony,” said Blake frankly.

“More precise than that.”

“About the fact that she’s gonna go ape shit on us,” said Yang. 

“Close.” Ruby span to face them with proud flick of her cape. “But first, let’s get a few facts laid down. Number one: Peony Bloom is–”

“-a bitch.”

“Yes, thank you Yang, and number two–”

“–no one likes her.”

_“Thank you_ , Yang, and number three: she–”

“–hates our guts.”

_“Yes, Yang_ , a point which I’d like to expand on without the interruptions.”

Yang rolled her eyes with a chuckle, and the red caped girl huffed in exasperation.

“Peony,” she said darkly, “does not like us. But the one person she hates most of all is Pyrrha.”

At the mention of her name, the girl in question’s eyes snapped up.

Ruby elaborated, “What Peony did today was beyond unacceptable. She targeted Pyrrha because a) she’s Jaune’s best friend and a girl, and b) it’s very likely that she saw them dancing on Saturday.”

“She’s one jealous bitch,” Yang sighed.

“And if she’s going to vent out her anger on us,” Ruby went on, “the bulk of it will be on Pyrrha.”

Pyrrha knotted her fingers together on her lap. “I don’t think it’ll be _that_ bad…” The rising uncertainty in her voice proved otherwise.

The look that Weiss hurled her was like a hail of icicles. “Did you see the obscene language she wrote on your locker?”

_“Weiss.”_ Blake’s cat-like scowl struck the heiress, who leaned back and apologised.

“Anyway,” Ruby regained their attention. “Let’s just get to the point. In light of this, we,” she peaked her fingertips together like an evil mastermind, “are going to exact our revenge.”

“Ooooo! _Feistyyyyy!”_ Yang cawed, and Blake slapped her arm.

“What do you mean?” said Pyrrha, eyebrows knitting together.

From inside her blazer, Ruby produced two scraps of paper. She held one in either hand. “This,” she waved the one in her right, “is my list of ideas and plans for getting Jaune and Pyrrha together. Operation Clandestine Cupid, if you will. I would have put into effect last week but one or two of the items still need… _tweaking.”_ She then raised the paper in her left hand. “And this is my list of all the things we’re going to do to Peony.”

“That sounds very ominous,” said Weiss. “Like one of your ideas is to kidnap her, tie her up and leave her in the janitor’s closet.”

“I won’t object to that,” said Yang.

“Can we break her legs first?” Nora bounced on the edge of Blake’s bed.

“By all means.”

_“As I was saying,”_ team RWBY’s leader rose her voice over the interruption, and their attention was on her once more. “We are going to avenge ourselves – particularly Pyrrha – by performing a few stunts on Peony. Any ideas to contribute to my already long list are always welcome.”

Pyrrha fiddled with a strand of her hair. “I’m still not sure about this. What is she doesn’t do anything after all? What if we become worse than her?”

“Stop being so nice, Pyrrha,” Blake sighed. “This is Peony. She _will_ do something, most likely to you.”

“And we’re gonna hit her back hard!” Ruby added, grinning wickedly. “We have to show her that we will not stand for any of her – Yang?”

“Bullshit.”

“Thank you, Yang.”

The tall red-head opened her mouth to protest again, but was swiftly interjected by Weiss.

“Just let _us_ worry about what happens to Peony. For the time being, you focus on Jaune.”

“But…”

“Pyrrha,” said Yang. “You have a rival over a boy, that rival hates the very air you breathe, and your girlfriends are plotting her downfall. Welcome to the average teenage life.”

Ruby frowned. “Is it average?”

“Well, not this scenario. Peony is a new level of crazy.”

Stubbornness conquered, Pyrrha cupped her face in her hands with a sigh. She hadn’t had the ‘normal’ teenage life since she was about fourteen. Even then she hardly socialised due to her strict training regime.

“Fine then,” she said. “Just be careful.”

“Pyrrha, we were going to do it anyway whether or not you agreed,” Ruby replied bluntly. “Now, everyone listen. We'll pull off the first act of revenge tomorrow…”

 

The scream was ear-piercing, blood-curdling, glass-shattering, and very, very satisfying.

Peony had jumped a good seven feet away from her gym bag, and now shrieked and pointed at it like a lunatic. 

“WHAT IS THAT? WHAT IS THAT IN MY BAG? WHO PUT IT THERE?”

No one came to help her. The other students stopped changing back into their uniforms to chuckle, giggle, or howl in laughter. Weiss and Blake laughed until they cried, Sun rolled on the floor, Nora completely lost the ability to stand, and Ruby snickered at her handiwork.

She and Blake had snuck out early during combat class for the locker room bathrooms. After soaking several rolls’ worth of toilet paper, they had filled Peony’s bag with them in a soppy mess, probably ruining her uniform.

The rest of team POPI finally came to her rescue and led her away to clean out the bag. Even they appeared to be struggling to contain themselves.

Pyrrha had had to clamp her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing so loudly. As soon as Peony was gone, she removed it, and laughed until it was hard to tell where her face ended and hair began.

“Alright, Ruby!” she wheezed, clutching her sides. “That was pretty good! Her reaction was _priceless!”_

The small girl smirked, pride radiating. “Oh, we’re only just getting started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, next chapter will be my favourite plot point so far! Looking forward to it!  
> Sorry for the swearing in this one, but it's how i imagined Yang to react.


	9. The Mashed Potato Episode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring a side of Pyrrha we rarely get to see. And Peony can't let things go.

Lightbulbs flashed in all corners of Ruby’s mind, and at lunch she nibbled cookies in one hand and scribbled down ideas in the other. Every so often, she’d forget she had half a cookie in her mouth, and would drool onto the table.

Weiss shrank back, grimacing in revulsion. “That’s the third time Ruby! Next time your germs land on my hand, I will not speak to you for a week!”

Irritatingly, the only response she received was an absentminded “Uh-huh.”

Intrigued, Jaune leaned across the table to peek at Ruby’s notes. He received a light slap in the face, and he withdrew, clutching his cheek. “Ok, ok! I get it!” he whined. “You don’t want anyone to see!”

_“I’m_ allowed to see,” Nora blissfully sang as she and Ren took their places opposite RWBY. 

Jaune regarded her in surprise. “You are?”

“Hello, do-gooders.” Yang plonked beside Blake, plate and cutlery landing on the table with a clatter.

Jaune attempted to appeal to her. “Yang, your sister’s writing something and she won’t let me see it.”

“Probably erotic fanfiction.” Yang sniggered, and Ruby stuck her tongue out at her.

“Seriously, though” – Jaune spotted Pyrrha down the hall and waved. – “I’ve never seen her write so…studiously.”

One silver eye sliced through him. The other was concealed by her fringe as she looked up. “Are you saying I’m not studious?” 

“No, but you do tend to doodle in Grimm Studies.”

“You fell asleep in History!”

“Hey! That’s because I–”

A piercing clatter and smash of ceramic hacked across him. Weiss squealed, Nora jumped and shot a forkful of potato across the table. The group turned at the noise. Pyrrha stood only a few feet away, her plate shattered on the floor and salad sprayed everywhere. Her tray had flown a considerable distance from her hands. The hall hushed to whispers and giggles. Some idiotic morons clapped, and one whooped, prompting a ripple of laughter.

“Oops,” Peony said, and turned back around to continue eating.

Numb from shock, Pyrrha bent down to collect the shards of pottery. She had felt something kick her shin, but by then it was already too late. At least while her lunch obeyed the call of gravity, her warrior instincts kicked in and she’d quickly managed to regain her composure.

Her team abandoned their meals to help clean up. Weiss went to find one of the school cleaners. Drama subsiding, most of the other students went back to lunches and conversations. 

Piling the pottery pieces into one hand, Jaune murmured, “It’s not like you to trip, Pyrrha.”

The redhead shrugged. So no one else had seen the foot stick out beneath her either – at least, a foot was what the obstruction against her leg had felt like. But she said, “I was in deep thought.” She’d seen Jaune’s wave and gone down the aisle as fast as walking allowed, and just hadn’t looked for any obstruction. She should really be more observant.

Weiss returned with, much to their dismay, the dubbed ‘creepy fat cleaner’, who grumbled at the mess and began sweeping it up with her dustpan and brush. JNPR left her offerings of neat little piles of lettuce and pottery fragments, their only thanks being a grotesque, beady-eyed scowl.

The four straightened themselves, dusted their hands off, and Pyrrha hastily announced that she wasn’t hungry and continued down the aisle and out of the hall. Jaune stared after her, torn between whether it was a good time to follow her or not. He turned to his teammates, but Ren answered before the question could even be asked. “You should go after her.” The tranquil bluntness of his tone carried more meaning than the words themselves. Jaune nodded, and raced after her.

The cleaner finished up, grumbling that the no-good over-paid janitor should be doing this, and the group reformed at the table. They resumed their meal, chewing more slowly and thoughtfully than before. A heavy silence clouded over them; theirs was the only table that wasn’t engaged in any mid-meal conversation. 

Finally, it was Yang who broke the silence. “Well. That was a thing.”

“Indeed it was. Let’s hope she isn’t so clumsy next time.”

Nora jumped, Weiss squealed, and Ruby groaned.

“Peony, you’ve got to stop jumping in like that! It’s so _old!”_

Peony scowled down at her, hands on hips. She was so close to Ruby, the caped girl thought she’d suffocate from the flowery fumes wafting from her.

“I was only contributing my opinions,” she spat.

“Perhaps first of all you should stop listening to our conversations,” Weiss snapped. “Why are you even talking to us? Don’t you have a team of your own?”

“Jaune’s not on my team. And I’m talking to you to ask one question: where did he go?”

Yang moaned, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Honey, you have to let him go. He dumped you, it’s time to move on.”

Peony stamped her foot in protest. “You obviously don’t know what love’s like! Now, _where is Jaune?”_

“Not here.”

“I can see that.” She narrowed her eyes, magenta stabbing through them all. “Did he go after Pyrrha? Is that what you lowlifes are trying to hide from me?”

It was Ruby’s turn to narrow her eyes. They squinted to slithers of moon, haunting and cold. “Perhaps you’d like to sit down and tell us what else you think we are?”

Temper flared, like a gust of wind tearing blossom petals off a peach tree, Peony was just about ready to call each one every name under the sun. “Perhaps I would,” she hissed, and took the seat beside Ruby. 

Ren whispered something to Nora, who bit back a smile, and the two scrambled from their seats to leave. Before Peony could even begin to voice her opinions on the team, Ruby grabbed her tray and leapt up.

“Oh, would you look at the time! You’ll have to tell us later, we ought to get going.”

“Absolutely,” Weiss brightly added as she and Blake rose.

“O...K…” Yang followed, eyebrows lowering in confusion. It wasn’t until they were safely out of the hall that it dawned on her. “Wait…where she sat…wasn’t it…?”

“Yep.” Ruby turned to light up the mood with a beatific beam. “It was where Nora’s mashed potato landed.”

 

Yet to discover that his ex would spend the rest of the day parading about with potato on her backside, Jaune pounded up the stairs of the first year dorm block. He took two steps at a time, skidded on the third floor, cursed Pyrrha for being so quick, and sprinted down the corridor. He almost flew past this dorm, and burst in, breathless.  
Huddled in her bedcovers, all that could be seen of Pyrrha were her vivid green eyes. She looked up at Jaune’s arrival, before quickly turning away.

Gulping, the boy slowly advanced, and sat down on his own bed to face her. She shrank further into the covers, rather like a mouse. “I just needed to be alone,” she said, voice hoarse. 

Jaune leaned forward and pulled some of the material down from her head. She didn’t stop him, but her cheeks dusted red in shame. She’d been caught in a moment of weakness once again. No tears had been shed, thank goodness, but she had felt the burning desire to just calm down away from everyone else.

“And you said _I’ve_ changed this past week,” said Jaune, one corner of his mouth curling higher than the other as he smiled.

“I’m sorry,” Pyrrha mumbled. “It’s not like I’ve ever had to deal with anything like that before.”

“You’ve never dropped your lunch in front of the whole school?” Jaune thought back to all the times his clumsiness had gotten the better of him throughout his school years.

“I doubt many people have. And it was kind of embarrassing.” She let out a raspy laugh to break the tension. “I’m such a coward, aren’t I?”

“No!” The very idea that such a strong person could think of herself like that made Jaune’s chest tighten. “You’re one of the bravest people I know!”

“In battle maybe.” Pyrrha tightened the bedcovers around her shoulders. “But not after something like that. I honestly cannot fathom how you wore dress with so much confidence, I’d be too worried about what people would think and say. _People_ are scary. Thank God I’ve made so many friends here, otherwise I would literally be in a living nightmare.”

“Hm.” Jaune would have responded a little more emotively, had he not noticed the way Pyrrha’s hand caressed her exposed leg. “Are you alright?”

Pyrrha followed his gaze, and hid her hand back under the covers. “It’s just a little tender.”

“I don’t remember you falling over.”

“I…” Pyrrha debated whether or not she should tell him. After a few seconds, she decided in favour. “I don’t want to pin the blame on anyone, or seem incapable of accepting my own mistakes, I think someone tripped me up.”

As soon as the words hit his ears, something flashed in Jaune’s mind. Or, to be more precise, a flash of pink. His voice lowered to a menacing growl, _“Peony.”_ He pushed himself off the bed and began pacing about the room. “So, she carried out her threat. Oh, God. How could I be so stupid?”

“What do you mean?” The bed covers dropped from Pyrrha’s shoulders, but they still gathered at her torso. 

Jaune span on his heel, his face loured. “I should have done something!” he erupted. “I could have stopped this…somehow. I should have done something to protect you!”

Pyrrha’s heart fluttered at that last sentence, and she closed her eyes with a satisfied smile. “You don’t have to protect me, Jaune.”

“Well, I…” Jaune scratched the back of his head, a feeling of unsureness sweeping over him as he realised what he’d just sounded like.

It was at that moment when the other half of their team exploded into the room. Nora was in the midst of a laughing fit and collapsed in splinters on her bed. Something twinkled in Ren’s eyes, and he showcased one of his rare amused smiles.

“What is it?” Pyrrha asked, hurriedly untangling herself from the bed covers to hide any trace of her moment of feebleness.

Nora rose her head, hardly got beyond the first syllable of any word, before the hysterics consumed her and she rolled off the bed.

Ren took over, “Peony sat on some mashed potato.”

Jaune blinked, unswayed. “Is that it?”

“And she looks ridiculous.”

“She’s got it all over her ass!” Nora blurted, her only moment of lucidity, before succumbing to the laughter again. She and Ren hadn’t actually seen it, having escaped Peony’s presence before she could realise what had happened. But it could be safely assumed that, given the size of the forkfuls of food Nora shoved into her mouth, the mess on her backside would be very noticeable indeed.

As she rearranged the covers on her bed, Pyrrha stifled a giggle. Admittedly it did sound rather funny. Even Jaune seemed to have brightened a little at the thought, as his frown had relaxed and a ghost of a smile hinted at his lips. He turned to assist Pyrrha with her bed, she insisted that she didn’t need help, and he persisted.

“From now on,” he said, propping her pillow against the headboard, “we’re going to stay away from Peony.”

Pyrrha smoothed the covers. “Probably easier said than done.”

“I’ll think of something.”

Though she was touched by his protectiveness, Pyrrha didn’t entirely rely on Jaune’s ability to keep an obsessive fanatic at bay. If anything, he’d only attract her.

“Or,” she said. “We get a little help…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though this is one of my favourite plot points, I had a horrible case of writers block with it. I'm tired and desperately need a cup of tea...


	10. Paper Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune does what he needs to do for the greater good of his team.

To have their help requested by such a “strong and well-known individual” as Pyrrha was an honour, according to Weiss. To Ruby however, it was a moment of sheer excitement as it seemed that they were given more of an excuse to carry more pranks out on Peony. She gazed at her lovingly scrawled list in delight, and Weiss snatched it away.

“We aren’t doing anymore stupid jokes,” the Ice Queen scolded.

Ruby pouted, offended. “They aren’t stupid! And we’ve only done…” She tilted back her head to recall.

Blake answered for her, “Five.”

The wet toilet paper, the mashed potato, and a day later, three more: replacing Peony’s pink lip gloss for black, swapping her perfume with a weird-smelling concoction Yang had mixed using her own fragrances, and falsely telling her where Jaune was. With the last one, they changed their response each time she returned to ask, thus sending her on a wild goose chase around Beacon. Hilariously, she fell for it each time, believing that she’d find her beloved eventually.

But Peony had been just as bad. Pyrrha’s arm guard had ended up in the fountain, desk scribbled on with more derogatory terms, and bag soaked when a bottle of water ‘fell from Peony’s grasp’ onto it. Ren and Nora had been affected too, as Ren’s cooking utensils disappeared (only to be tracked down in various places in the school), and Nora’s shoe laces vanished from her pink boots. Then, one of Blake’s ribbons was bleached, Yang’s shampoo became a grimy mixture of who knows what, Weiss’s ice dust had been mixed with her fire dust, and Ruby’s cape somehow got caught wherever she sat.

From her perch on the bookcase, Weiss glowered at her leader at the other end of the beds. “Five is enough. You can’t overindulge.”

Ruby let out a rather dog-like whine. “But how else are we supposed to protect Jaune and Pyrrha?”

Seated on Blake’s bed with Nora, the Mistral champion bit her lip in shame. Protect. Putting it like that only illuminated how feeble she really was. If it were all battle and nothing else to it, she’d excel. Fighting was in her bloodline as much as it was in Jaune’s. A physical wound she could endure, but emotionally she wasn’t so strong. Such was the consequence of her lonely past.

The war raged on between Ruby and Weiss.

“We can do it without the childish practical jokes!”

“No we can’t! They’ll help keep Peony away!”

“No they won’t! She’s very tenacious!”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’re not doing anymore pranks.”

 _“Weeeiiisss._ That’s not fair, you’re not the leader, you didn’t answer my question, and I have so many good ideas on that list!”

“Oh, yeah? Let’s see then.” Weiss unfolded the paper with a dignified flick, and before she even looked at the handwriting, the first thing she noticed were the tiny printed snowflakes around the border. “Wait, did you steal my letter paper?”

Blake swiped the list from her, and read it herself. Her amber eyes shifted left to right, her frown deepening the further down she went. “Some of these are quite…dark.”

A slight blush shaded Ruby’s pale cheeks. “I might have been very angry at the time of writing some of them.”

“‘Knock the bitch out with a baseball bat and leave her in the Emerald Forest’?”

“Oh that’s mine.” Yang sniggered at the faunus’s glare. “I might have added a few of my own whenever Ruby left it unattended.”

Blake narrowed her feline eyes. That much was obvious. She passed the paper to Pyrrha, who scanned it with Nora, the latter giggling the some of the ideas. In the end, Pyrrha was in agreement with Weiss.

“Yeah, no more pranks, please. We’ll all just get in trouble.”

Ruby scoffed in exasperation. “Fine then. We’ll give you a heads-up whenever Peony’s near, and hide you when she’s really close. Then I guess we could divert her attention…” 

Slowly, her face brightened up as she thought of all the ways they could send Peony away.

“Nothing stupid though,” Weiss warned. “And for goodness’ sake, stop using my things without permission!”

 

The sisters were clearly not as fazed at getting into trouble as everyone else, especially if it was for the greater good. Ruby’s prank list continued to grow, but it became more of a wish list than stone-set plans.

Meanwhile, the scheme to protect– or hide – Jaune and Pyrrha was in full flow. As soon as Peony was sighted, someone – usually Yang or Nora – would push Jaune under the table if it was in the dining hall, and behind walls or doors if she was up ahead in the corridors. Pyrrha could hide herself, but couldn’t evade the lingering, thorny glares the flower girl stabbed her across the classrooms. While they hid, the others would sometimes distract her if she got too close, through small talk or…other means.

The pinnacle of which happened during the second day of the feat. Ironically that was also when it all fell apart.

History class, and Dr Oobleck was a good five minutes late. If Professor Goodwitch had seen what the students got up to in those few minutes alone, she would probably have tossed them off the headmaster’s tower. 

It started when Peony sashayed in, and immediately spotted Jaune. She made a beeline for him, and ball of scrunched-up paper hit in the side of the head. She span to face her offender. “WHO DID THAT?”

While Yang had distracted her, Jaune dove under his desk. Judging by Peony’s outraged shrieks and the snickering students, she would remain distracted for a while. Taking a deep breath, Jaune crawled as fast as his hands and knees could carry him across the aisle. He leaned against the desk there, and its owner, Velvet, cast him a timid, yet curious look. Jaune raised a finger to his lips to signal that she needed to stay quiet, and he peeked from behind the desk. Peony was currently retaliating Yang’s paper ball barrage with one of her own. Seizing the opportunity, Jaune slipped up the steps to the desk above. Blake ignored him, for his benefit. Pyrrha hadn’t wasn’t there yet. In fact, peering over the desk now, he saw that Pyrrha had only just arrived.

She stood rigid in the doorway, clutching the strap of her school bag, observing the paper fight. Knowing there was nowhere to hide other than behind the doorposts, Pyrrha steeled herself and charged headlong into the classroom, believing Peony would be too engaged in her battle to notice her. 

No such luck.

It was as if a radar had triggered within Peony, its settings being specifically targeted at the two members of JNPR. She spun round and caught Pyrrha by the wrist. The strong warrior, however, was quick to react and yanked herself away. She tried to continue across to the steps but Peony’s voice pinned her in place.

“You and Jaune have been hiding together.”

Slowly, Pyrrha turned, eyes flashed in warning. But Peony didn’t falter.

“You _stole_ him!” she hissed, menacingly as a Venus fly trap. 

“I haven’t stolen anyone, or anything,” Pyrrha growled. She squared her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Something I’d appreciate you didn’t write on my property.” 

“Those words were true, every one of them, and you know it.” Magenta eyes burning, the foul words pounced from her mouth like an onslaught of beowolves. _“Red-haired giant.”_

“OHHH!” Cardin cheered, and Yang flung a paper ball at his mouth.

_“Thief, ugly bitch…”_

That was as far as she got. A paper grenade struck her square between the eyes, bouncing off a few feet. Peony clutched her head and howled, Pyrrha gaped, and Jaune plunged back beneath the desk, grinning like an idiot; an idiot that had, for once, hit his target. On the desk above him, Weiss yelped in distress at the blank space before her. “My letter paper…”

As Peony whined, Pyrrha leapt up the steps to her seat, and almost jumped at the sheepily grinning Jaune gazing up at her. She sat down, careful not to tread on him, and her heart jolted as she felt her knee softly scrape against his cheek. Shame she was wearing tights…

“Ah, good morning everyone!” Dr Oobleck zoomed into the room, fuelled by a good five coffees’ worth of caffeine. “Sorry I’m a bit late. Let’s get sat down and started. Miss Bloom, what on Remnant are you doing?”

Peony pointed dramatically at her forehead. “I’ve been _assaulted_ , sir!” 

While Dr Oobleck tended to Peony, Jaune decided it was time to get back to his own desk. Bitterly regretting that he couldn’t do so with any cool moves like flips, he hurriedly crawled down the steps. He ignored the giggles and Cardin’s more audible guffaws, and stared down at his hands to make sure the steps didn’t catch him out and send him toppling down. It was a good idea except for one thing.

A loud knock, followed by, “Oof!” Jaune blacked out, and when he awoke the top of his head ached and his scalp stung. Several pairs of eyes – and one pair of glasses – stared down at him: amber, brown, ice blue, green… He tried to move his head to the green, a pair of magenta and a cloud of soft brown hair blocked them all out.

“Oh my God, Jaune! Are you alright?” Peony’s voice squeaked with concern, and as his vision cleared, he saw that she gazed down on him in genuine pity: brows pinched upwards, face a little pastier than usual.

He groaned at the pain, and felt his head. “What happened?”

“You hit your head on your desk!” Peony exclaimed. “It sounded painful.”

“It was,” Jaune grumbled, and tried to sit up. On either side of him, Peony and Pyrrha took an arm each and helped him lean against the desk. Peony fretted over him, Pyrrha offered him comforting smiles, Weiss suggested they applied ice to his head, and Jaune insisted he was fine and tried to stand up. His head moaned in protest, and he stumbled. Constantly aware of the fleeting time, Dr Oobleck checked his watch. “Mr Arc, perhaps you should take a minute outside.”

“I’ll go with him, sir!” Peony chimed, and took Jaune’s arm as if he would faint at any moment.

“Very well then. The rest of you, back to your seats.”

Pyrrha watched the two leave, that cold, constricting feeling snaking in her stomach. Peony didn’t pull Jaune, she moved at his pace, gently holding his arm for support. And he neither shook her off nor looked back. They disappeared through the door, and the redhead plonked herself ungracefully onto her seat.

Outside, Jaune leaned against the wall, holding his head. The pain was beginning to recede. Peony reached up to stroke his hair.

“You had me worried there,” she said, and took his hand. Jaune jerked himself away and glared down at her.

“Don’t say anything like that to my friends ever again!”

Peony crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. “Well it’s not like they’ve ever been very nice to _me._ I _tried_ to be friendly with them.”

“At first, you were civil. You also acted like a kid. Then you wrote all those things on Pyrrha’s locker and pulled those stunts on my friends! And now this!”

He received an obnoxious pout. “They played pranks on me too! And I’m not stupid; I’ve noticed how you and Pyrrha hide whenever I’m near. Why? Was I right about her being a thief?”

“No!” Jaune snapped, winced as his head throbbed, and continued more quietly. “No. I’ve been keeping away from you so you don’t hurt my friends, and Pyrrha’s doing the same so that you can’t hurt _her.”_

“I haven’t hurt anyone _that_ badly! And your friends hurt _me_ with their stupid little jokes.”

“But you started it with Pyrrha’s locker.”

“Yes, Jaune, and you know what, it’ll only continue. _Unless.”_ A simper spread across her blossom lips. “You and I start seeing each other again.”

Jaune’s entire insides plunged to his feet. So that was what this was all about?

Reading his paled face, Peony scowled. “Either that or I’ll continue with the pranks.”

A thousand thoughts swirled in Jaune’s head. Dating Peony and bowing to her wishes had caused so much trouble in the first place, and surely only more would follow no matter what he answered. But then…he had to protect his team, his friends. As Ruby had rightly once told him, “it’s time to put our teams first, and ourselves second.” He’d abided by that to the point where he’d risked his very position in Beacon.

Peony’s smile had returned, and her bright eyes were like morning dewdrops. “It’s just a few weeks, Jaune,” she breathed lustily. “Just a few, short, weeks.”

She did have a point. _Just a few short weeks_. Plus, they’d be busy for the tournament anyway. And, most importantly, it meant his friends would be left alone.

“Alright,” he said, his voice a crunch or gravel. “But remember: I’m entitled to hang out with my friends whenever I want, and you cannot mess with them.”

“Of course.” Peony flashed him a brilliant smile. “So, we’re going steady again?”

And Jaune gave her the answer she’d been long waiting for.

“Yes.”

Gasping in ecstasy, Peony flung her arms around his neck and kissed him fully on the lips. He fell back in surprise and crashed against the wall.

“Ah!” he exclaimed against her mouth, and she pulled back, gazing up at him in genuine worry.

“Jaune! Your head! Sorry!” She reached up to caress his fluffy blond head, her soft hands somehow soothing the pain. “Are you ok?” She did care about him, deeply, in her own way.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, and felt himself drawn in for another deep kiss. He’d forgotten how soft her lips were; it was like kissing a rose, and they tasted sweet from her lip gloss. Her fingers played with his hair. Out of duty more than desire, he slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. 

_Just a few short weeks. His friends would be left alone. He was only doing what he needed to as team leader._

Peony smiled against his lips, triumphant, and coaxed his open with her tongue. Needless to say, they didn’t return to class for another good three minutes, and when they did, their fingers were firmly entwined. Blake expelled a cat-like hiss, Weiss scrunched up a sheet of her letter paper, and Pyrrha felt as though she was sinking into some bleak, invisible pit. They were back to square one.

The reformed couple sat together at Jaune’s desk, Peony a little more restrained than she used to be, but she did stroke Jaune’s bumped head every so often. She whispered something in his ear, and he nodded. Pyrrha looked away and tried to take notes while Dr Oobleck’s babbled words danced around her.

Then, a rustle snapped her back. Something landed on her desk. A ball of paper, scrunched like a white rose. Gingerly, Pyrrha unfolded and flattened it. Loopy handwriting swirled before her in glittery pink ink.

_We’re together again, and I hope we can all put what’s past behind us. Truce?_  
 _Peony  
_ _xxx_

Pyrrha’s breath hitched in surprise. For one, Peony was calling for peace when she was the one who started it, and for another, three kisses?

When class ended, Jaune and Peony sauntered ahead, hand in hand. The boy managed a few small smiles and his eyes appeared brighter than they had before. Pyrrha stood by the door and watched them shrink down the corridor. She clenched the crumpled note by the edges, the ink sparkling ep at her like tiny pink stars. The others clustered around her, glaring after the couple or reading the note over her shoulder.

“He’s back with her?” Yang blurted. “Well, there goes our ‘protect Jaune and Pyrrha’ plan.” 

“He’s a complete and utter dolt,” Weiss scoffed.

“Perhaps he’s had a talk with her?” Blake suggested. “Perhaps she really will change?”

 _“Hello?_ That doesn’t change the fact that he’s dating that insufferable little brat!”

“I agree with Weiss.” Ruby slipped past the group, and span to face them with a superhero-esque flourish of her cape. Her prized list, salvaged from her teammate, enthroned in her hand. “We’re reintroducing this–”

“Ruby, no!” Weiss began.

“–and I don’t care what you level-headed people think, because this entire situation is totally crazy and not suitable to be dealt with by level-headed people.”

If looks could kill, Weiss’s glare would have mutilated Ruby. The caped girl flashed her a brilliant smile. “Don’t worry, Weiss. It’ll be one prank. And I know what I’m doing.”

“…After you basically said that you’re not level-headed?”

But Ruby scuttled ahead of the group, chuckling to herself as she reread the precious words towards the bottom paper, the latest addition to the list, squashed on the snowflake border. The others would certainly object to the idea, but it was just so _perfect_.

She _would_ pull it off, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, ShaunyRedComet, next chapter will involve a fight scene - and it'll be big.
> 
>  
> 
> But not the finale!


	11. Red, Red and More Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby goes a little too far, and team POPI are not impressed. At all.

For a fifteen-year-old, Ruby was really quite devious – perhaps gained from her brash half-sister. In order for her plan to work, absolutely _no one_ was to know about it. That was why she convinced Weiss that she’d changed her mind about the whole thing and was calling it off. She even shredded the list into tiny flakes to prove her point - good thing she’d already copied it down.

Students could venture into Vale anytime outside of school hours, so after classes, Ruby changed into her casual attire and dashed to meet the first airship down. There _was_ a path and long flight of steps carved into the cliffs down to the city, but airships were always preferred due to them simply being quicker and requiring less effort.

While her teammates believed she was on an emergency stationery shopping spree, Ruby’s destination was in fact the world foods aisle of the supermarket. She’d already quizzed Sun about Vacuo’s infamous spices, and, according to him, the hottest were the Vacuan sun tear chillies. 

“Just squeeze some juice from those babies into your food, and you’ll be spitting fireballs,” the monkey faunus had told her, before inquiring why exactly she wanted to know, to which Ruby replied something about a bet with Yang.

Seeing a jar of them on the shelf now, it was clear why they were given their name. Gold as the sun, and long and pointed at the ends, they did indeed look quite like fiery tears. _And they were perfect._

Since she wasn’t a lover of spicy food, therefore being seen with a jar of chillies would likely rouse suspicion, Ruby returned to Beacon with some new pencils and pens to add genuineness to her story. The jar laid hidden her shoulder bag.

The juice was enough to make you “spit fireballs”, Sun had said. So, at breakfast the next morning, Ruby had only one chilli in her pocket. She had been so giddy with excitement she’d found it hard to sleep last night, but now when she should be tired, the adrenaline made her feel like Nora on a sugar rush. She’d even woken up early and gotten to the dining hall before everyone else, though that was also so she could hide her large, heavy, secret weapon under the table by her feet. She hardly touched her cereal as she waited for her target, Yang noticed and asked if she was alright, and Ruby shoved a spoonful into her mouth with a toothy grin and a nod. 

Across from them sat the whole of team JNPR, much to Ruby’s surprise. What with his newly established relationship with Peony, she’d expected Jaune to be stitched to her hip. But no, here he was merrily chatting with Pyrrha about comic books, while his girlfriend sat with her back to them on the table behind RWBY.

No matter, the flower brat still had a lesson to learn: don’t mess with team RWBY.

Finally, her target arrived. Blake sat between her and Yang, her tuna and sweetcorn on toast wafting that disgusting fish stench, and Ruby held her breath. The faunus plonked two books on the table, opened one up, and read whilst she slowly ate.

Ruby fingered the smooth, firm skin of the chilli, intrigued by how it could be so cool on the outside, while flames resided within. She scanned the table, assessing each person. Blake’s book had risen to level her eyes, Weiss was filing her nails, Yang and Nora were locked in a thumb war, the comic book discussion between Jaune and Pyrrha raved on, and Ren… well, right now he was serving as referee to the thumb war, but he’d probably still notice… _something_. At least he wasn’t likely to say anything.

Ruby set to work. Ever so gently, she prodded her elbow against the book beside her. Slowly, discretely, it moved closer to the edge of the table, and Blake’s bow-covered cat ears didn’t even twitch. Finally, one good shove and the book thumped to the floor, pages fanned out. Sighing, Blake reached down and back to retrieve it, and as she did so Ruby swooped in. The chilli was brought from her pocket, and split in two over Blake’s breakfast. Pinching each piece between her thumb and forefinger on either hand, she squeezed, and the clear juices dripped all over the fish. She only managed a few drops before Blake had reached the book, and she zipped her hands away too quick for her teammate to notice what she’d been up to. Book back on the table, Blake continued her breakfast, none the wiser…

She chewed as slowly as before, eyes glued to her book, and Ruby worried that she might not have applied enough chilli. Blake swallowed, opened her mouth to take another bite, and stopped right there. The toast dropped to her plate, and her hand flew to her lips. She began to pant, and a small groan escaped her throat.

Ruby tried not to look as pleased as she felt, or laugh for that matter. Blake had abandoned her book and was now fanning her face with both hands. This attracted the attention of the others; Nora and Jaune stifled giggles, Weiss shifted further away, and a spark of amusement twinkled in Yang’s eyes. 

“Blake,” she said as her lips curled into a widening smile. “Are you alright?”

Shreds of high-pitched voice accompanied the panting now, and Blake shook her head. Her eyes watered, the skin around her lips was actually reddening as much as her cheeks, and faint wisps of steam twisted out of her mouth. Her tongue, the insides of her cheeks, her throat…they all felt like a raging inferno, like she was breathing fire. It burned, and it hurt, and it _would not stop._

By now Weiss was flapping a napkin over her to aid with the cooling, while recommendations and calm words were shouted across the table.

And then…

“Don’t worry, Blake! I’ve got this!” Ruby leapt on top of the table, her hands proudly presenting a bucket. She brought it back, Weiss shrieked something along the lines of “What are you doing?!” and Blake’s red face somehow paled. The bucket swung forward like a pendulum, and water cascaded out, flying towards the faunus in a cold, clear deluge. Blake instinctively ducked, and the water gushed over her, missing her entirely save the odd drop. An all too familiar scream followed.

Frozen in shock, Peony sat dripping and soaked to the bones. Her hair hung in straight, sopping strands, darker than before. Her clothes clung to her body and shone with wetness. Her team gasped and surrounded her with comforting words and sympathy. Once again these three teams were the fodder for gossip and entertainment, as students gaped and giggled at the spectacle.

Weiss shot her leader with a wide-eyed yet icicle-sharp look. Her screech was like a nail on a blackboard, _“That_ was your plan?!”

“Yep.” Ruby beamed down at them all. “And it worked!”

Blake slowly unfolded herself. _“What?”_ she gasped, still fanning her blazing mouth.

“It’s true. I snuck chilli juice into your breakfast, knowing that your cat-like reflexes would kick in once I threw the bucket.”

Behind her, Jaune buried his face in one hand, groaning. “Oh my God, Ruby…”

Pyrrha too raised her hands to her burning cheeks, murmuring that this was a bit too far. Ren’s entire being seemed incapable of movement, and Nora clutched his sleeve. Yang allowed herself an audible laugh.

“I have to say, sis, nice one. Devious little minx.” A lilac eye winked.

Screaming and gasping subsiding with some soothing words, Peony now whipped herself out of her seat to glare at the bucket-armed girl looming over her from the table. If eyes could ignite upon fury, Peony’s would have done there and then, regardless of how wet she was.

“You little brat!” Her voice wavered, and was lower than usual. In a way, she sounded more mature – and dangerous.

The scarlet-haired Poppy also rose from the table, dark eyes locked on Ruby’s silver.

“That,” she said, voice low and threatening as thunder, “was low.”

Then, as if the team shared some psychic connection, Orchid and Iris stood too, fists clenched. Like a good, supportive team, they were prepared to defend their teammate. Though deeply incensed and dripping wet, Peony smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile.

“Alright, Ruby,” Blake whispered though her fiery tongue. “What’s the plan now?”

Silver eyes widened and Ruby gulped, insides cool and wrapped in an uncomfortable knot. Orchid looked ready to tear them apart, the once calm and airy Iris was like a savage beast. Poppy’s face was stone, and Peony’s smile widened to the point where she looked… _nasty._

Ruby’s plan was simple.

_“Run.”_

So they ran. All eight of them. The empty bucket tumbled to the ground. Those sitting down scrambled from the benches, Jaune fell over, Pyrrha yanked him back up. Team RWBY led the way, tearing out of the dining hall. They burst into bright daylight, and continued running.

Glancing over his shoulder, Jaune yelped at the sight of the four flower girls stampeding behind them. What would happen if they were caught…?

“We need to split up!” he yelled.

Beside him, Pyrrha took his arm and they veered left. The panting Ren was dragged to the right by Nora. Ruby shouted instructions to her own team, “GET YOUR WEAPONS!”

Almost simultaneously, the group flicked out their scrolls, fingers slipped as they ran and dispersed. Four lockers rocketed over roofs, each landing in separate locations.

“Aw, crap!” Yang cursed as she chased after hers. Thank goodness their scrolls had tracking devices. Hers was somewhere amongst the dorm blocks, Blake’s by the library, Weiss’s in the gardens, and Ruby’s near the amphitheatre.

“Get your weapons and regroup!” Ruby ordered, and sped away in a red blur, scattering rose petals in her wake. Columns whipped past, her feet hardly touched the concrete, the grass and bushes swept back under the force at which she travelled. She didn’t know if anyone was following her; it was hard to hear anything with the wind howling at her ears. Not even the telltale bleeps of her crashed locker could be heard, but thank the shattered moon it could be seen – stuck nose-first in the ground, concrete smashed around it, door automatically open. Crescent Rose lay folded and ready, and when Ruby retrieved it she immediately swung into its full scythe form; for one she had to brace herself, and for another her uniform meant she had no holster.

At first, nothing. The concrete stretch before her was peaceful, a few students idly chatting or giving her and her readied weapon questioning looks. The clear day meant that the airship port could be seen right at the end of the stretch.

And then, a pink petal drifted down and settled on Ruby’s shoulder. Then another, and another, before a whole storm cloud of pink swirled towards her. Yelping in panic, Ruby’s own Semblance kicked in by instinct, and next thing she knew, she was in the empty amphitheatre. The glass dome-shaped roof loomed overhead, allowing daylight to pour in, yet in the arena, it felt so dull and dark.

“Found you!” Poppy stood at the entrance, her team clustered behind her. All their weapons were drawn, from Peony’s fans to Poppy’s…shovel?

 _A shovel? Seriously?_ As a self-confessed weapons dork, Ruby was fully aware that they could be based off pretty much anything. But a _shovel_ …? Poppy held the long body across one shoulder, the arrow-shaped tip penetrating the sky. None the less, it looked painful enough.

“You’ll pay for messing with my teammate, Ruby Rose!” Poppy spat. Then, her voice raised to a ferocious battle cry. “CHARGE!”

Orchid and Iris ran forward first. Flaxen-haired Iris flung her metal, dust-cored whip, and Ruby swung her scythe in a parry. Using the momentum, she dug the blade’s tip into the ground and the whole thing pivoted round for her to deliver a sharp kick to Orchid’s face. While Orchid stumbled, Iris’s whip snaked forward like lightning, but before it could hit Ruby, Crescent Rose shot one dust bullet and that created enough force to send it and Ruby spinning back; the whip’s tip just smacking the blade as it did so. Ruby landed on the other side of the arena, and opened fire on Iris. That knocked the whip-wielder back a little, but before anymore could be done, Orchid was back. Her two curved blades slashed down on Ruby, who blocked again, and zoomed in a streak of red petals to open ground. 

That was when two slashes of pink clawed at her. Ruby ducked and hacked her scythe at Peony, who executed a beautiful backflip under the blade, landed flawlessly on her feet and span in mid-air with her fans shooting in all directions. Patched up after the fight with Pyrrha, the fans hit Ruby in the back, but she didn’t falter. Crescent Rose still had enough momentum from the swing to spin her right around, and the blade hooked Peony’s body to send her flying.

Now Poppy brought her shovel into the mix. Two gardening tools clashed and span and parried. While Ruby relied on swings, Poppy tended to stab at an opening – of which Ruby made sure she didn’t provide. Poppy fired red bullets from the blade, Ruby blended her Semblance and her own gun’s recoil to quickly evade.

She was at another open spot in the arena, and Orchid and Iris were charging towards her once more, while Poppy closed in from the left, and Peony was somewhere behind her. Ruby gulped in a rare moment of self-doubt. If she was Pyrrha, these guys would probably be no problem. But she wasn’t Pyrrha, she was Ruby Rose who could take on uncoordinated criminals alone, but not a mob of flower girls. 

Orchid struck first, and Ruby blocked. Then Peony, then Poppy, all three upon her and all she could do was jump and spin her scythe like Death itself. Iris’s whip snaked forward and grappled Crescent Rose’s body, and suddenly Ruby was at her mercy. Iris pulled her forwards, and Ruby used her gun’s recoil to wrench herself free, but all that did was have her complete a full circle around the whip-wielder. Stuck as she was, the others seized the moment. Ruby leapt and kicked at Orchid’s blades, but as she came back down she was jabbed by Poppy’s shovel, and she rolled onto the ground. Iris yanked her whip back, and Crescent Rose soared across the arena, landing with a painful clatter on the other side.

Ruby cried out, and sped towards her beloved weapon. But a flash of silver and yellow, and the whip had knocked her back, far – this time with electricity dust flowing under its metal spine, and little shocks of lightning rippled across Ruby’s body, sending her into a spasm whilst she still flew. But before she could land, Peony sprang up, and with a flourish of her fans, sent Ruby in a vertical plummet to the ground.

Head spinning, body aching, Ruby laid curled there, in the middle of the arena, surprised that the impact hadn’t made a crater. Crescent Rose lay discarded somewhere, she’d lost her fight, and would probably have detentions for the rest of the semester for her prank on Peony.

Oh, but her reaction _had_ been funny…

“OI! FLOWER BITCHES!” The familiar voice was like a choir of angels – albeit some rather bawdy, fallen angels. Yang stood at the entrance, feet shoulder width’s apart, Blake and Weiss with their blades raised on either side. Yang raised her gauntlets, eyebrows drawn and smiling in confidence. “IT’S PUMMELIN’ TIIIIME!”

Rapier pointed forward, Weiss glided to Orchid and the strike sent the short-haired girl flying, frost crystals embedded in her Haven blazer. Yang charged at Poppy and Peony, and punched and kicked at them like a wild thing. Fire dust flared around them, and the dainty Peony was easy to knock back but Poppy less so as she blocked and assaulted with her own weapon. Blake took care of all four, flinging her gun and pulling its ribbon like a whip, leaping and spinning to provide more force. The gun fired in all directions and blade struck Poppy in the back and Iris in the face. The whole of POPI faltered as a result of the shots, and Yang had an easier time taking on two of them at once. Meanwhile Blake confused Iris with her speed and shadow clones, making it past the shield of the steel whip and Gambol Shroud sliced at her with no mercy.

With the flowers distracted, Ruby ran across the arena to her scythe. It appeared unharmed and her hands hugged its hilt once more. Confidence returned with her weapon, the caped girl charged into battle once more.

Engaged in a fierce blade battle with Orchid, Weiss blocked and stabbed, leapt with her glyphs to evade. Several times she froze the dual blades together with a heavy block of ice, but the metal of Orchid’s swords were fused with fire dust, and the ice soon melted. However, in this moment of helplessness, Orchid was an easy target, and Weiss stabbed and jabbed at her for as long as the ice stayed intact. 

“WEISS!” Ruby yelled above the battle cries and clashes of weapons as she ran. “SWAP WITH YANG!” She struck Poppy and the two leaders raged on, while Weiss drove her rapier into the ground, blanketing it in a sheet of ice. Orchid slipped and flailed, and Weiss swept across like a figure skater to stab at Peony. The pink girl blocked with her fans, but Yang’s gauntlets shot at her while an almighty punch crunched into her chin. Peony fell back, and Yang made for Orchid. She hammered her fist into the ice, blasting a fiery flare to evaporate it into a thick mist. Blinded and stumbling, Orchid rose to her feet and poised her blades, scanning the area around her. Yang burst out the fog from behind, and would have smashed her to the ground had Orchid not reacted and slashed both swords up to parry the gauntlets.

As the two new opponents fought, and Blake flipped and slipped under and over Iris’s whip to deliver more strikes, Weiss made sure her battle with Peony lasted as long as possible. Finding the pink flower a fake and an insufferable, puerile brat, the Ice Queen’s desire to pummel her was much stronger than Pyrrha’s had ever been. The two twirled and slashed and rained bullets or ice crystals, their moves entwined rather like some sort of energetic yet graceful dance. Peony caught the rapier between her fans and the close contact allowed her to deliver her classic toe stamp. Weiss howled, formed a glyph beneath them, and they shot into the air. Without any way to sustain her position far above the ground, Peony used the recoil of her pistols to spin herself, but with her glyphs, Weiss bounced up and up, smashing Peony against the floating snowflakes and launching herself to her. It wasn’t long before the flower crashed to the ground like a dying blossom torn from its branch by the wind.

Meanwhile, the two leaders remained equal. Ruby swung, and Poppy mostly stabbed but when she did swing, the two blades crashed and the force pushed them away. Crescent Rose’s tip dug into the ground and Ruby pivoted round to run back at the adversary. She swung, and Poppy blocked. She introduced all kinds of quick and complex flourishes, but Poppy evaded, dug the shove’s blade into the ground, and flipped over the body whilst firing the gun. The recoil shot her over Ruby’s head and thus she delivered a solid strike to the caped girl’s back. Ruby yelped and growled in frustration as she fell forward, and Poppy would have landed another hit had Ruby not used the recoil of her gun to launch herself into the air. But Poppy did the same, and the two collided in the air, slashing and hacking at each other while the recoils rocketed them ever higher. They would soon hit the glass roof... So Ruby kicked herself away from Poppy, and shot directly at her. The force sent her back and she smashed like a red meteor into the stands. Poppy was hit by the bullet and crashed into the wall.

The two explosions and thunders of falling rubble halted the entire fight. The fall of the teams’ respective leaders was a clear enough signal that the fight was over. Sliding down the wall, a dusty and bruised Poppy landed on the far end of the arena with a painful thud, shovel clanging beside her. Ruby managed to kneel in the crumbled stands by leaning on her scythe. Grazed and bruised as she was, she hadn’t quite run out of aura, nor was she in a fit enough state to continue fighting.

Weiss had been about to run the fans through when Ruby landed, but now curled her lip at a panting Peony, and turned on her heel to stalk to her leader. Blake did the same, exchanging rueful glares with Iris, and Yang didn’t even spare Orchid a second glance. The teams wordlessly rejoined their leaders… but halfway across, Peony span back round, weapons raised.

“Peony, no!” Poppy hollered. “The fight’s over!”

But, vengeance unsatisfied, the victim of the watery prank opened fire on Ruby. The caped girl ducked behind the stands, and Yang turned. The bullets stopped, and Peony gulped, regret oozing like black sludge into her stomach.

Because Yang’s eyes were _red._

“That” – her hair was _glowing_ now too, like real flames – “was LOW!” She pumped her fists, emitting a gold shockwave, hair billowing behind her and gleaming brighter than before. She charged forward, fist raised. Peony raised her fans to block, but they were no match against Yang’s Semblance-fuelled punch. She flew back like a rag doll, fans and petals raining from the sky. The wall of the stands cracked upon impact, and she splatted on the ground.

The rest of team POPI huddled together at the far end, eyes wide and not at all wanting to cross the fiery path of Yang Xiao Long again. The brawler hurled them one final warning look, and was just about to turn back to her own team when she noticed a shift in the flower girl’s stares. They looked more to the right, past Yang, and it could be safely said that the terror that flashed across their faces had increased from before. 

“Just what is going on here?”

The stern, no-nonsense, piqued voice of Glynda Goodwitch echoed off the walls and right around the high glass dome. Hands planted on hips, she stood at the entrance of the amphitheatre, lime green eyes scything through the scene; two Haven exchange students wounded on the ground, cracks on the walls above them, the school’s youngest student sat amongst a freshly ruined section of the stands, each student in full uniform yet weapons equipped…

Peeling herself off the floor, Peony coughed pitiable and glared up at Goodwitch. “Ruby Rose started it, ma’am!” Her voice cracked, and sounded hideously pathetic.

Eyes narrowed, Goodwitch glared at the battered, caped girl, then her red-eyed sister, the flushed faunus, and the frowning heiress. She pushed her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “Girls,” her tone had more of an edge of danger to it than when she stormed in on the food fight. “My office, _right now.”_

 

Unaware of the raging battle between the two teams, Jaune and Pyrrha stood panting on the rooftop of first year dorm block, their make-shift arena for nightly spars. But it was the morning sun beaming down on them now, not the shattered moon. And they weren’t cut out to fight just now, as they sat together, chests heaving. Never had either of them ran so fast (apart from Pyrrha, during the odd tournament battle and back when she was chased by that death-stalker). The champion currently could not stop apologising to Jaune; she’d clenched his wrist a little too tight for a little too long, and it now ached a bit. Jaune brushed it off with a smile, insisting he was fine.

Pyrrha managed a small smile, and gazed across at the various sloping roofs of the different school buildings. Ren and Nora were hiding elsewhere in the school; perhaps they were back in the dining hall upon Nora’s insistence that she finished her breakfast.

But for now, it was just her and Jaune, alone on their rooftop, sitting side by side. So now was probably a good time to ask him something that had been tormenting the tip of her tongue for days.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on?”

Jaune kept his eyes firmly on his sore wrist. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what you said on Friday, about…well, it was to do with why you were going out with Peony and letting her walk all over you, and so on.”

“Ah…” He glanced up at the green orbs far above the school in the headmaster’s tower, before shrugging. “Well, it’s all fine now. I know I’m dating Peony again, but it’s not so bad anymore. I mean, I sat with you guys today.”

“But _why_ are you back with her?” The passion of the topic rose in Pyrrha’s stomach, and it was clear in her tone. “What do you _see_ in her? Why did you date her in the first place?”

Rubbing his eyes with one hand, a sigh escaped Jaune’s mouth. “She’s pretty, I’ll admit that, but couldn’t date anyone purely on looks alone.”

“So what is it?”

“…Honestly, it’s me fulfilling my role as team leader and friend.” Looking at Pyrrha for the first time in a while, he was almost taken aback by the look on her face. Her mouth hung open, and curved slightly at the edges, a blend of shocked and pleased. 

None the less, he continued, “My role as leader is to put my team’s needs and wellbeing first. So that’s what I’m doing. By letting Peony have her way, I’m protecting you all.”

The lurch of her stomach nearly made Pyrrha move with it. Her heart had sprouted a pair of wings again. _He doesn’t think of her like that after all!_

But she controlled her voice to give the impression of serene intrigue, “Protecting us?”

Jaune felt the back of his neck, the heat of his skin growing with his discomfiture. “Well – well it was the best thing I could do without hurting anyone. I mean, Peony er… well, she, um… she…” He balled his hands into fists, as if pumping some self-assurance into himself. “She told me that if I cared more about my friends than I did her, she’d make you all pay.”

Pyrrha’s brows scrunched together. “That’s a bit contradictory. By venting her anger on us, you _would_ care more about us because she’s not the victim. Therefore your attentions will be drawn away from her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her. Anyway, she was really angry at the time and I don’t think she meant it quite like that. A better phrasing of it would be the main reason why we’re back together now.”

“And what is that reason?”

His shoulders remained tensed as he sighed. “Basically… she, she said she’d only stop messing with you all if I started dating her again.”

While half Pyrrha fluttered and soared at the revelation that he wasn’t with Peony out of love, the other half of her was clouded with confusion. “But that’s not gaining your affections. That’s just…I don’t even know!”

“I think she expects me to fall head over heels for her eventually – that’s why she wanted me by her side all the time. At least this time around she’s agreed to let me hang out with you guys, and she won’t hurt you again. She even wrote a not to you asking for a truce, right?”

Pyrrha nodded, and snorted. “I don’t think she’ll want one now.”

“No...” Jaune ran a frustrated hand though his hair. “God damn it, Ruby! I’ll be back to square one and she’ll try to hurt you again.”

Thank goodness he wasn’t looking at her, as the smile Pyrrha wore now just could not be hidden. “I’ll be fine, Jaune.” Indeed, she felt truly invincible now. “Besides, it might just be best to break up with her than lie low.”

“Yeah, but…” Jaune turned to her, smiling bashfully, and Pyrrha quickly bit back her own smirk. 

“I’m not the most experienced of people when it comes to… _this,”_ he confessed. “I mean, I’ve had the odd unserious relationship before, but this is totally different.”

“I’m not that experienced either, but I think that’s the best course of action.” 

“Mm.” Jaune hung his head, staring at his knotted fingers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. I just felt so… _stupid._ A complete fool.”

 _“Jaune.”_ The champion placed a strong hand on her leader’s shoulder. Blue eyes rose to meet hers, and she beamed him a supportive smile. “You’re not stupid, or a fool. You were doing what you felt was best for your team. And that’s what makes you a good leader.”

Crimson bloomed all over Jaune’s cheeks, and his gaze was back on his hands. “That’s another thing, I also thought…” He stopped himself with a shake of his head. “Never mind. Let’s go find Ren and Nora.” He scrambled up all too hastily.

“What?” Pyrrha quizzed as she too clambered to her feet. “You thought you weren’t being a good leader?”

“Uh, sort of…” Jaune shrugged, refusing to make eye contact with her. “It doesn’t matter. C’mon, let’s go.”

The left the rooftop in silence. Jaune kept his eyes firmly on the ground as they walked. Pyrrha’s lingered on him, as if she was trying to probe into his deepest thoughts. Ah, if only she could. Perhaps then things would be a lot simpler. 

 

With no Ozpin to intervene this time, the scolding the girls received from Goodwitch was not pleasant. Team POPI were given a stern telling off too, but Ruby received the worse, being the one who started it all. Polishing every single library window for pouring water on someone was, in Ruby’s mind a bit much – some of those windows were huge. But it was either that or every window in the school if she didn’t turn up for her punishment, so she duly went about it after classes.

There would be no more pranks now, definitely not. But still, Ruby smiled. They still had the Cupid list…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took longer than expected. Though, I did take a day off to celebrate my birthday.  
> Never written a fight scene this big before; it's so much easier just to imagine them.


	12. The Four Matchmakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby's Cupid plan is put into operation, with _varied_ results.

Weiss was furious that her good reputation should be stained thanks to Ruby’s “childish jest” – Goodwitch would probably lower her grades forever more now! Blake was more resentful at the fact that she’d been secretly fed one of the hottest chillies on Remnant. And Yang raved about their epic battle, which would quickly descend into a full on rant about Peony’s final cheap shot.

Never the less, like the supportive team they were, they took it in turns to help Ruby with the windows after classes – in clandestine, of course. As they worked, Ruby informed them of yet more plans: how to get Jaune and Pyrrha together. This was a cause Weiss was more comfortable with supporting, and one that Blake was quite good at refining the ideas for; the amount of books she read had blessed her with an exceptionally vast knowledge on romance. In fact it was her that suggested they didn’t tell anyone else what they were up to: Pyrrha herself included.

“It’ll incite a better reaction,” the faunus explained as she scrubbed she glass, causing piercing squeaks. “Besides, she’ll most likely back out of the whole scheme if she knew what exactly we have planned.”

That much was probably true. 

As was the fact that now was as good a time as any to begin. After the fight, Peony refused to go anywhere near team RWBY, and was more demanding of Jaune’s attention, thus threatening their agreement on him choosing who to hang out with when. The day after the prank and the battle, he sat at the other end of the dining hall with her while she clung onto his arm and wept, wailing about how outrageous and horrible the girls had been. She sat by him in all the lessons they shared to cry on his shoulder – often literally, and to the point when he had to take her outside where they engaged in a making out session – and he hung out with her after classes. At least as the week drew on, she grew a little more lenient on who he chose for company, but it wasn’t quite the same. He and Pyrrha hardly had the chance to talk outside of their night sessions and schoolwork, which was why Ruby insisted on commencing with the operation immediately.

They started with little things. They began one study lesson: while Weiss distracted Jaune and Pyrrha with a history homework discussion, Blake silently crept under the table. When the lesson was over, the strongest and the weakest fighters stood up, only to find a foot each being tugged in the other’s direction. Pyrrha blushed, and Jaune laughed awkwardly. Her right foot and his left were knotted together at the laces, joined by a neat little bow. As Jaune bent down to untie them, Pyrrha shot a questioning look at team RWBY, instantly sensing that they had something to do with this. She received was a wink from Yang and giddy smile from Ruby. 

More little escapades followed. Pyrrha’s hair ‘somehow’ got caught in the back of Jaune’s collar and tie, and as he untangled them they giggled together like school kids. One of his books ended up in her bag, and when she left to collect a book, her essay papers ‘magically’ fell off the table as Ruby sailed past, landing right by Jaune’s feet. He and Pyrrha collected the papers together, him chuckling at the spillage and causing her to laugh along too. At one point, they reached for the same sheet, she being slightly faster and his hand ended up on top of hers. The two blushed a little and exchanged bashful smiles. Ruby fist-pumped.

Pyrrha was smart enough to work out who exactly was behind the strange occurrences, and after her papers had been stacked back on the table, she muttered something about helping Ruby find a certain book, and all but dragged the younger girl by the cape to a secluded area of the library.

“What?” The silver eyes widened up at her, like innocent moons.

“You know what.” Pyrrha folded her arms, and one side of her mouth curled up to a smirk. “The Cupid plan’s finally in operation.”

 _“Maaaybeee?”_ The moon eyes shifted from side to side in mock guilt. “Why? Do you want it to stop or something?”

“Well…no. Yes. I don’t know.” The champion’s folded arms loosened so they were more hugging her body, and her smirk had vanished. “I’m not sure I want people doing this for me.”

Ruby blew a frustrated puff of air, sending a lock of her hair billowing upwards. “You didn’t, then you did, then you didn’t… Stop being so indecisive!”

Pyrrha blinked, a little taken aback at the girl’s boldness. “But, what you’re doing…it can be embarrassing.” 

“It’s cute though. Think about it – it was Jaune’s hand that went on yours, not the other way round. That wouldn’t have happened without us.”

She did have a point. Man, she’d really learnt from Yang about effective persuasion.

The victor of four Mistral tournaments sighed in defeat. “Fine, continue with your plans. But can you at least tell me beforehand your next move?”

“Nope.” 

 

The weekend dawned in all its welcome glory, and though the sun was shining, a there was crisp chill in the air. Weather reports claimed that tumultuous north wind, coming straight from Atlas, no doubt, was the cause. It was cooler in Vale this time of year anyway, but with the incoming Atlesian wind, snow was highly anticipated.

“I heard they may have to postpone the tournament for a while,” Jaune murmured as he and his team sauntered down the high street. Nora skipped in delight at the prospect of her favourite weather. Pyrrha’s feet would have dragged – she hated the cold – had she not been distracted by the shop windows. A pink and red theme of hearts and roses fluttered wherever she looked: Valentine’s Day was coming.

That was another thing she hated. She wasn’t against people showing their affections to one another, but her experiences at Sanctum Academy had rendered her to dread the occasion. Endless kisses, goofy confessions, fights over one person’s heart…witnessing it all was a constant reminder each year that she didn’t have that. This year was going to be by far the worse simply because she was in love with someone this time around, and that Peony would crush that someone with cuddles and kisses all day. It would be more unbearable than ever…

Heavy music pounded from a few streets away, along with the distant roar of a crowd. Team RWBY were at the Vytal Festival concert at the request of Yang. The joyful memory of her and Jaune dancing together at last weekend’s concert replayed in Pyrrha’s mind. She had to bite her cheeks to stop herself from grinning like an idiot.

Nora spotted a new confectionary shop, window embellished by a giant heart-shaped slab of chocolate, and promptly charged in. Ren followed close behind to stop her from taking a bite out of everything she saw. The remaining two waited outside, and Jaune smirked at the various Valentine’s treats scattered on red silk below the chocolate heart.

“So,” he said. “Got any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

Pyrrha’s entire being instantly lit up. He was going to ask her…! 

“No,” she replied coyly. “Why?”

Her leader shrugged. “Just wondered if you were going to send a card or something.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. How could she be so stupid, of course he wasn’t going to ask her out for Valentine’s Day. He had Peony to worry about for a start, and there were plenty more options.

“What about you?” she had to ask.

Jaune leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Me neither.”

“What about Peony?”

“I’ll tolerate her for one day. I’ll let her swallow my face: that’s my Valentine’s gift to her.”

The way he’d said it had been so dry and sardonic that Pyrrha couldn’t help but let out an explosive giggle. Jaune chuckled too, and then they quickly died to silence. Glancing through the glass, Pyrrha saw that Nora was ogling at rows upon rows of candy – she wasn’t going to be leaving too hastily. Might as well make the most of being alone with Jaune.

“You know,” she said, “Back at Sanctum it was customary for people – secret admirers and serious couples alike – to send each other a rose. Obviously, it was mostly girls who were given the roses, and the amount one received was essentially a measure of one’s popularity and beauty.” She punctured the last few words with venomous disgust, remembering conceited madams flaunting their bouquets and reminding her of her own inadequacies. 

Jaune arced an interested eyebrow. “Did you ever get a rose?”

He received a waning smile. “I did. Four in total. One turned out to be a prank when I was fourteen, and the other three were from secret admirers whose identities remain undiscovered.”

“Oh,” was all Jaune could say in response. And then, “In my school, all we had were little slips of paper from an anonymous person asking us to be our Valentine.”

“And how many did you get?”

“Last year I got three, and I found out who one of them was and we dated for a little while; it wasn't serious or anything. I must say though,” he added with a chuckle, “huntresses seem to have a lot higher standards than regular city girls.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that!” Pyrrha blurted, then bit her lip to prevent herself from saying any more. Yes, a lot of girls at Beacon seemed attracted to those who could fight well, and being the strongest warrior, she had fallen for the weakest. Perhaps Jaune didn’t know it, she thought, but he was actually very good-looking. And kind, and sweet, and adorable, and…

A high-pitched voice cut through the air, "Ready to go!” . Nora skipped out of the doorway, a bulging plastic bag swinging from her arm. Ren regarded it with a rather guilty look.

“I should really do more to restrain her…” he murmured.

Next, they couldn’t resist but follow the music, the thumping beat and roaring guitars growing louder with each street they went down or corner they took. Soon, they came to a large road closed off to vehicles, where a huge crowd pulsated with the beat, roaring like a very large pack of beowolves. A flashing stage stood a fair distance away, the band currently performing merely small figures. Jaune led the way into the knot of raving fans, all the while searching for a good spot to join the dance. Pyrrha held onto his arm, Nora on hers, and Ren on Nora’s to prevent them from separating.

“Jaune! Over here!”

The boy turned at the voice, and a beaming Yang waved at them a few metres away. The four pushed and weaved through the bouncing audience to join her and the rest of team RWBY. After some friendly greetings and the odd hug, team JNPR joined in with the dance. Side by side, Nora and Ren synchronised their moves the plastic bag on Nora’s arm swinging and hitting several people in its wake. Once again, Jaune and Pyrrha danced close to each other, grinning and laughing and enjoying the other’s company. Team RWBY, however, didn’t continue dancing, for Ruby had signalled to the other three girls with an affirmative nod, and they took their places. This was something they’d been waiting for.

The crowd jumped around them in time with the beat, arms pounding the air. People pushed for no reason, and paid no attention to who was around them as they danced, and often collided with others. Ruby and Yang shifted closer to Jaune, and Weiss and Blake to Pyrrha. The strongest and weakest fighters were dancing too now, grinning and bopping together like the weekend before, or the ball. Ruby nodded to Weiss and Blake, and the four girls raised their hands at their respective targets’ backs, ready to push… Pyrrha couldn’t take her eyes off Jaune, and his grin lingered on her. Nora twirled somewhere nearby, and Ren’s jaw hung slack as he realised what was happening.

“Oh dear…”

The band climaxed to the chorus, the crowd surged to dance with all their might to the accelerating rhythms and thumping beats. Team RWBY used this movement as extra force, and together, they pushed. Ruby and Yang shoved Jaune, while Blake and Weiss thrust Pyrrha. The blond and the redhead smashed into each other, yelping in surprise. Their chests pushed against one another, groins meeting, legs and arms tangling, but faces untouched.

Ruby scoffed in frustration. “We _missed!”_

Ideally, the result of the push would be Jaune and Pyrrha’s lips also colliding. Instead, their lips barely grazed the other’s cheek, and they now untangled themselves, blushing madly. Flustered as she may be, Pyrrha’s eyes locked on Ruby like green fire. She excused herself from Jaune, and approached the younger girl. Ruby gulped, and turned and fled. She didn’t want to experience the rare wrath of the Mistral champion, and had done the first thing that sprang to her mind; running like a little child, her speciality. The crowd bounced around her, she got elbowed in the face and shoved against some creepy old man, had her foot trodden on…and then her cloak tugged at her neck. She span round to see the end of her cloak in Pyrrha’s strong grip.

“Look, Pyrrha, I’m sorry!” Ruby blurted, her heart pounding in her ears almost in time with the heavy beat. “You weren’t meant to end up like that, it was meant to be smoother but…”

“It was a stupid idea anyway!” Pyrrha shot back over the roars and the music. “Some of the feats before were embarrassing but that was _mortifying!”_

“Pyrrha, we’re all sorry! Next time we’ll–”

 _“Next time_ you’ll stay out of it. I gave you a chance and now I _definitely_ don’t want anyone to interfere with my personal life.”

With that, Ruby stomped her foot and delivered one last scathing line, “Fine! Jaune’s better off _alone_ than with Peony anyway!” And she swept past the stunned champion, chin raised as she flounced back to the others.

 

Valentine’s fever afflicted Beacon, and everywhere students fretted at what to write in their cards, whether or not to confess to their crushes, how to impress their boyfriends or girlfriends… Ruby was sick of it all before the day had even arrived, Blake already suspected that Sun would ask her to be his Valentine, and Weiss seemed incapable of stopping her swooning over Neptune.

“What approach should I take with my message?” she said, pen hovering over her open Valentine’s card to him. “Poetic, or frank in a romantic way?”

“I really don’t think boys care about _how,”_ Yang replied from her bunk as she ran a brush through her abundant locks. “But they _do_ care about what.”

“So, frank in a romantic way?”

“How can you be ‘frank in a romantic way’?”

Grinning wickedly, Ruby leapt down from her bunk and struck a dramatic, damsel-in-distress pose. “Oh Neptune!” she cried in an exaggerated, breathy voice laced with desire. “My heart flutters in your presence! You make me feel weak at the knees! My entire being quakes with love for you!”

Blake giggled, and Yang shook her head with a beam. “Nah, sis. Most boys will wanna hear “I’ve wanted to suck you dry since I first set eyes on your sexy ass”.”

She, Ruby and Blake burst into peals of laughter, while Weiss scowled at them all, insisting that Neptune wasn’t like that at all and was sophisticated enough to appreciate a romantic poem and that she didn’t need anyone else’s help anyway.

Meanwhile, Pyrrha had a card-related dilemma of her own. She hadn’t originally planned to do anything for Valentine’s Day – after all, what was the point when the one she loved would never see her the same way? – but Nora had been the one to suggest that she get a card for Jaune. In fact, the hammer-wielder wouldn’t shut up about it until Pyrrha finally relented. It was one thing trying to think of a suitable message, it was another working out how to sound as anonymous as possible; she’d have to disguise her handwriting for a start. And then there was hiding it from the man himself. She’d had to make do with concealing in her empty suitcases under her bed, but then there was retrieving it discreetly, and actually _giving_ it to him! How in her mother’s name was she going to do that?!

But first, she had the message to worry about. While she was normally very dedicated to her studies, for once she used her study period in the library for something other than homework or extra reading. She sat at an empty table away from everyone else, simply to keep her handiwork as discreet as she could. Around her were scattered newspaper clippings, gathered like the snow forecasted for the kingdom. With each word or letter she needed, she snipped it from the newspaper and stuck it in the open Valentine’s card. Slowly, her anonymous message took shape. 

Standing by the shelf, Ruby watched her snip and stick away. Pyrrha hadn’t spoken very much to team RWBY since the… _incident;_ Ruby especially. Refusing to talk was just her way of dealing with people she was angry with, according to Ren. And once she received an apology, everything was sunshine and rainbows again. In Ruby’s mind, it was a bit one-sided; what would happen if it was actually Pyrrha who should be apologising? Then again, the champion was notorious for saying sorry for even the tiniest of things. But angered, she was stubborn as a spot. Though deeply annoyed, Pyrrha _was_ thankful that Jaune had brushed off the whole ordeal with, "Must have been pushed by the crowd."

Taking a deep breath, Ruby approached her. “Hey, Pyrrha.”

Pyrrha’s eyes snapped up, though she showed no expression. “Hi.”

The caped girl smiled awkwardly. “You look busy.”

The red eyebrow that was arced for the small talk was not one of amusement. 

Ruby cut to the chase. “Look, on behalf of the whole team RWBY, I’d like to tell you that we’re sorry for…what happened…two days ago…”

Pyrrha leant back in her chair, drawing out a long sigh. “I know you are. Your intentions were… _honourable._ I _am_ grateful for all your support, and that’s all I need.”

“Ok.” Ruby gradually came closer. “Soooo, we’re all friends again?”

Pyrrha felt her smile widen. “We were still friends before.”

“Oh good.” The distance between Ruby and the table diminished, and she squinted at the newspapers littered on the surface. “So what’re you doing here, all alone?”

Realising how close she was, Pyrrha covered the card with one arm and with the other jabbed a pen at her in mock threat. “That’s none of your business.”

But the grin on the younger girl’s face told her that she had failed in hiding her work. 

“Don’t worry,” Ruby said, teeth on display. “I won’t say anything. See you later.” She sailed back to her table, leaving a reddening Pyrrha, and sat down at her own work. Jaune busily scribbled notes opposite, brow furrowing in concentration. The pen scratched against the paper, he growled and scrawled harder, before throwing himself back against his chair with a groan.

“Ruby,” he mumbled. “Do you have a pen I could borrow?”

Without looking up from her book, Ruby tossed him her pencil case – red and cylindrical, splattered with black roses – and he sorted through the contents. After testing a couple of pens, he settled on one with scarlet ink. Ruby raised a quizzical eyebrow at his selection, which quickly turned into both brows raising and her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’.

A blank card lay open before him, and on the paper from earlier, he continued writing out individual letters in different styles.

Smirking, Ruby said, “Who’s the card for?”

“Can’t tell you,” Jaune replied simply.

“Is it for Peony?”

His eyes shot up, and a sly smile spread on his lips. “So she believes. It’s the only way I’ve managed to get her to leave me alone for a while. I mean, she’s been so extra-clingy lately. I think it’s because Valentine’s Day’s very close now. Friday, right?”

“Yeah. So, who is it for?”

“That’s for me to know and the girl in question to find out.” He began writing on the card, slowly and carefully. He stacked his books to form a barrier between him and Ruby, and curled his arm around his work as extra protection. Seeing as there was no way to peek at his writing, Ruby went back to her book, but the letters that stared blankly up at her made no sense as her thoughts swirled inside her head.

_Jaune, if that card is not for Pyrrha, I swear to God…_

 

_______________________________________________________________________________

I know this is meant to be the third semester, and in most places that would be May/June/July. Let's just assume that Vale is cold this time of year, I mean Remnant isn't Earth after all, and from what I've seen in RWBY the weather is almost always sunny and nice. Perhaps they have their winters later, like in Australia? I dunno...  
As for Valentine's Day, it's in semester 3 because why does there world have to be exactly like ours? XD


	13. Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day begins - rather unexpectedly for Pyrrha.

“Will you be my valentine?”

Pyrrha’s gaze slipped from the rose held out to her to the large, loving blue eyes. They were alone on their rooftop, the stars and moon beaming down on them almost in approval. Jaune’s nervous smile quivered at his lips, and complete and utter euphoria washed over her.

“Yes.”

She reached out to take the blood red rose, but her hand slipped right through it. She tried again but still couldn’t take it. A tinkling cackle shattered the amorous atmosphere, followed by Peony’s chanting, melodic voice: _“Red-haired giant. He’s mine, not yours, he’s mine, not yours. Not yours. Not yours.”_

Frustrated at the repeating words and the rose’s evasiveness, Pyrrha grabbed at Jaune’s whole hand. It fell through her grip like a mirage. She gaped at her hands, then lunged for Jaune again, but this time he vanished completely. Peony’s voice echoed around her head, the rooftop plunged into darkness, and the dream ended.

 

It came overnight.

The wind had howled in a wintery requiem, relentlessly battering the buildings and trees. With the wind came an Atlesian-sized assault of snowflakes, pelting everything in sight and probably would have made audible splats if it weren’t for the wind.

Upon looking out the window on Valentine’s morning, Ruby almost fell backwards at the sheer brightness that reflected back at her.

“Aaaiiii!” she squealed, rubbing her eyes as it felt as though the very roots of her eyeballs were twisting at the spectacle. “This is way too bright for an early morning!”

“It’s not _that_ early, you dunce, the sun’s up!” Weiss scathed, but her frown instantly cleared at the white blanket outside. Soft, smooth and flawless as her own skin (save the scar over her eye), the snow smothered everything in sight, from the ground to the trees to the rooftops and window ledges. Sprinklings of it even splattered on the walls, and long icicles glinted down from any outcropping like wintery teeth.

Somehow, the sight of snow and the essence of love in the air blended to make a very cheerful Weiss. She helped the other girls with their hair, lent them her make-up and nail files, and all but danced around the room, clutching her card for Neptune to her heart. Seeing her like this only made Ruby pity her; she was going to turn into a sulking, distant miser when the exchange students left.

Across the hall, most of team JNPR celebrated the snow’s arrival – Nora ecstatically, Ren by simply smiling, and Jaune by cheerfully humming to himself. But the very sight of the smooth, white outdoors made Pyrrha shiver. She didn’t like snow; it was far too cold for her liking. Mistral had its odd cold snaps and storms, but the most of the time it was warm and rather tropical. To make matters worse, she had a card to deposit.

Deciding to get it over with, Pyrrha reached under her bed to retrieve it. Jaune had his back to her as he fumbled with his tie. Nora was skipping and singing while Ren knotted his shoelaces. Pyrrha quickly slid the enveloped card under her blazer, grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste, before striding across the room, trying not to redden in embarrassment at what she was about to do.

“Just going to the bathroom,” she announced as nonchalantly as she could, and the door closed behind her. Taking a deep breath, she went down the hall towards the bathroom, walking rather flat-footedly in order to create more sound from her footsteps, thus making it seem to her team that she really had gone. She made it to the end of the hall, counted to thirty, before turning back the way she came. This time, she crept to her dorm on her tiptoes. As a battler, stealth wasn’t really her forte, and it took an age to get to the door in such a manner. Every tiny creak or audible step made her insides unbearably tight. Her heart hammered in her ears like a repeated onslaught from Magnhild. As she drew nearer, she slid the card out from under her blazer, gazing down at it and not quite believing that she was going to do this. She, a battle-hardened young woman, on the cusp of adulthood, had been reduced to a blushing girl too scared to look the one she loved in the eye and tell him how she felt. 

But that would ruin everything if she did tell him. Jaune was her best friend, the first person not to be dazzled by her status. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him off by announcing exactly what she felt about him. Their confrontation at the dance had been bad enough; her feelings had been right on the tip of her tongue but she side-stepped with “You’re the kind of guy I wish I was here with.” The _kind_ of guy. Not _the_ guy. Thank goodness Jaune swooped in as her dress-clad date all the same, but that was out of sympathy and genuine friendship, surely? 

And now she was quaking a little. Her dorm’s entrance stood before her, still closed. That dream last night hadn’t helped either, and though she couldn’t remember much of it at all, fragments of Peony’s chanting voice still bounced around her head. Swiftly, she crouched and slotted the card under the door. Before it could go in fully, she had bolted back down the hall and into the bathrooms to recollect herself. And brush her teeth.

The white envelope slid under the door, and rushing footsteps sped down the hall until they faded completely. Nora almost trod on the delivery, and only missed it thanks to Ren being quick enough to swipe it away. The dark-haired boy glimpsed the name on the paper, before holding it out to his leader.

“It’s for you,” he said frankly.

Jaune took it, and the first thing he noticed was how his name on the envelope had been spelt with individually snipped letters from some printed document, like a newspaper. Turning it over, he carefully peeled the envelope open, tearing the paper a few times, until he could pull out the contents. The card was simple yet pretty, with the words “Happy Valentine’s Day” written across it in a swirling font. He opened it to find more snipped letters inside:

_Dear Jaune,_  
_I’m far too scared to tell you in person, but I don’t have enough room or newspaper letters to tell you exactly how I feel. So I’ve condensed it into the old cliché…_  
_I love you._

There was no name put for the sender.

 _Oh,_ was all Jaune could think. _Ohhhhhh._ It wasn’t from Peony, that was for sure. She’d write a whole monologue about how they were written in the stars or whatever. This was from a girl who was, as she’d put it herself, _scared._

Across the dorm, Nora and Ren exchanged knowing smirks. The newspaper clippings, the way Jaune’s jaw slackened and eyes lingered on the message… Pyrrha had done a good job.

She returned a good ten minutes later, and her eyes automatically fell on her card lying opened and read on Jaune’s bed.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, hardly even glancing at it out of shame. “Who’s that from?”

Jaune shrugged. “No idea.” He couldn’t help but cast it a smug grin. Some girl who wasn’t Peony really did like him. Most boys wanted to be the heart throb of their school, and after having hoped girls would swoon over his very name when he first came to Beacon, a valentine’s card from one who genuinely liked him in that _way_ was, weirdly, more flattering. 

But who _was_ it from? Oh, dust, imagine if it was from… He’d be so…

 

Love was well and truly in the air at Beacon Academy. Adoring messages and sweet nothings flitted to and from students via writing or, if they were feeling brave, voice. Cards and letters arrived to their recipients either by being slid under dorm doors or planted in their places at class. Some delivered them directly – like Weiss. Confidence boosted by the six cards she’d received (all anonymous), she sashayed up to Neptune after Grimm Studies, chirped him a “Happy Valentine’s Day” and thrust the envelope to him. He accepted it, and in turn confessed that one of the anonymous cards was his. Meanwhile, Blake received three cards, one of which she was certain was from Sun, and Yang got a staggering fifteen – many of these consisted of lustful compliments. Ruby had to admit that she was a little disheartened at not receiving any, but was cheered by Yang’s reminder that to give an under-16 a card would technically be paedophilia. By society’s standards, at least.

While Weiss became a gooey puddle under Neptune’s dazzling smile, elsewhere in the classroom Pyrrha floated on one of the highest clouds. She’d spotted it as she entered the room – a red envelope sitting innocently on her desk. Said envelope turned out to contain a cheap, heart-dotted, rose-splattered card. The message inside was scrawled in unrecognisable handwriting:

_To Pyrrha,_  
_You are smoking hot and amazing and perfect, and I’m completely in love with you._  
_Will you be my Valentine?_  
_Some guy._

One thing was for certain: it wasn’t from Jaune. They’d entered the room together so he couldn’t have put it there before they arrived. Plus, it didn’t sound very much like him. He would try to be eloquent but end up sounding clumsy yet adorable.

So, who was already in class when they came in? Quite a few people, actually, and her attentions had been solely on the card until she’d read it about three times before she decided to scan her classmates for the sender.

Still, someone out there did like her! She was loved by _someone,_ even if it wasn’t Jaune. Her confidence bolstered a few levels, she allowed herself to flaunt her token of love at the others at break. With the snow outside, students were permitted to stay indoors, so the emptying classroom was RWBY and JNPR’s haven of choice. The girls huddled together on the second row, while the boys – including SSSN – laughed with themselves nearby. Nora and Ruby giggled at the message while Yang jokingly nudged Pyrrha in the arm with a wink.

“I’ll bet you’re hot to many – just not everyone has the balls to say it.”

 _Because she was ‘too good for them’._ But Pyrrha was in no mood to lament over that. She beamed at the girls passing around her card. Its words were now fully memorised and they flashed in her mind, surrounded by gold light for some reason. Flattery such as this was something she’d grown used to, but for someone to say that they loved her, and after everything with Peony, she felt lighter than air.

“I’m just so happy someone’s admitted their feelings for me! As in – their _feelings_ feelings.” 

It was at that moment that a loud, deliberate guffaw smashed the moment to pieces. Cardin Winchester slouched in his seat, feet on the desk, as he sniggered at the silenced girls. His cronies chuckled behind him.

“What do you want, dickhead?” Yang growled, one hand propped on her hip and chin raised.

Arrogantly, Cardin smoothed his gelled hair. “It’s not what I want. It’s what _you_ want. You want to know who gave you that card, Pyrrha?”

Eyes narrowed, Pyrrha regarded him with complete and utter mistrust. “I wouldn’t call you a reliable source, Cardin.”

The huge boy planted a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Even if _I_ was the sender?”

The silence that followed could have crushed rocks. The boys had quietened now to hear what was going on, and Cardin’s cronies struggled to stifle their snickers.

“What?” was all that dragged itself from Pyrrha’s mouth.

“It’s true.” Cardin threw her a haughty grin. “I was the one who wrote you that card. And you fell for it – you actually thought I _wanted_ you!”

His team couldn’t contain themselves any longer, and they erupted into shards of laughter, like it was the best prank since Ruby drenching Peony. Pyrrha’s insides turned to lead, Nora clutched one hand and Blake the other. Team CRDL received not longing looks that Valentine’s Day, but five vengeful glowers – and one emerald, wide-eyed stare.

“So, the card was a _joke?”_ Weiss scoffed, banging one fist against the desk.

“Of course. We sent bogus cards to several girls – including _you.”_

Weiss’s lips pursed as she tried to recall which one from her collection would be the culprit. She’d extract it, and attack that waste of space with it. He would eventually die from paper cuts. Right now, he and his team laughed exchanged bro-fists and high-fives as if they were the best thing to happen to the world since dust.

Yang balled her hands into fists, and her eyes flickered dangerously between lilac and red. “That is _so_ low.” 

But the boys continued to howl with laughter. “She fell for it!” Cardin gasped, his face now akin to a thick-necked tomato. “She actually thought the card was real and she was so _smug_ about it! Oh my _God!”_

“CARDIN!”

Jaune’s shout thundered around the classroom, rolling up and down the auditorium. Team CRDL faded to quiet chuckles and then silence. All eyes fixed on the gangly boy at the bottom of the steps, feet shoulder-width’s apart, hands fisted, scowl tempestuous. 

He punctuated each word like they were daggers flung from his mouth. “I told you not to mess with my friends.”

Any trace of a snigger now gone, Cardin held up his hands in protest. “C’mon, Jaune! I’ve abided by that, and it was only a little prank! Besides, she’s not the only girl to get a fake card.”

Under his hair, Jaune’s temple vein throbbed. “But you openly mocked Pyrrha as well.”

A rather uncertain snicker tugged at Cardin’s lips. “Aw, c’mon! It wasn’t that bad! And she’s fine, anyhow.”

Pyrrha’s sullen eyes and crestfallen silence said otherwise.

Temper flared, Jaune raged in a fit of anger, “You violated my warning, you’re showing no remorse, and you’re an all-round jerk. Now come down here and deal with this like a man!”

Several of the girls gasped, knowing what this could be indicating. Pyrrha made obvious ‘no’ gestures to her leader, which either went unseen or ignored. From the boys’ group, Sun leaned in to Neptune and whispered, “This shit’s gonna kick off!”

“Oh dear…” Ren mumbled. 

The bulky leader of team CRDL clicked his neck and cracked his knuckles. “Perhaps I will.” He marched down the steps and towered over his challenger, smirk slithered across his smug features. Jaune swallowed, but held his gaze firm. It had been a while since he’d stood this close to Cardin, and while he’d gained a good couple of inches in height over the past few months – and a pleasing amount of muscle – he was still far off from his aggressor’s gigantic measurement. 

Despite leaving the smaller boy alone since he saved his life from the ursa, Cardin sneered at his idiotic heroism. “What exactly are you going to do? Punch me?”

Jaune responded to that by delivering a good, sharp kick. He clutched his shin after the contact as pain sheered through his skin, but Cardin’s scarlet face and excruciating moans as he clutched his crotch made it much more bearable. Sure, it was a low move (literally), but it was justified by everything that jerk had done in the past.

“OHHHHHH!” Sun, Neptune and Yang erupted into boisterous cheers, the two boys aiming theirs more towards the three shock-stricken remainders of team CRDL. Nora punched the air with a whoop, Blake, Ruby, Sage and Scarlet applauded, while Weiss and Ren actually _laughed._ Pyrrha’s hands had flown to her mouth to stop herself from emitting a girlish squeal. With one kick, Jaune had owned Cardin, and whether it was between the legs or not, the weakened, staggering, humiliated bully had been well and truly shown what happens when one messes with Jaune Arc’s friends.

Shockwaves rippled down her spine to her belly. Jaune had done it for _her!_

He was now surrounded by his congratulant friends, his hair getting ruffled and back clapped and both hands shaken. He accepted the praise with shrugs and small, if not coy, smiles. The three teams got so caught up in the celebrations that they didn’t notice CRDL slip away, Cardin’s hobbling figure supported by Russell and Lark – nor did anyone care. As the group of ten flocked around Jaune like fan girls at a boy band’s concert, Pyrrha had kept her distance, smiling and laughing with them, but not quite sure how to interact with her saviour. Honestly, she could grab his head and wrench him in for a kiss right there before their friends. She wanted to hold him now more than ever, but would a hug say too much right now? 

As the thoughts flitted through Pyrrha’s head, Jaune made eye contact with her, and the two exchanged inscrutable smiles. Politely removing himself from Yang’s side-hug, he stepped towards his red-haired damsel, smile slightly crooked – much like the one he wore when he donned that dress for the ball. “You ok?” he said.

“Oh yes. I’m great, in fact.” Pyrrha’s beam could reflect off the snow outside and blind all who ventured out into it. 

The other side of Jaune’s mouth curved upwards to complete the smile. “Good. Oh, and I’m sorry about what he did.”

“It’s not your fault. Sure, it hurt, but what you did back there counteracted it.” She cast him a critical smirk. “It was a good kick.”

Jaune shrugged. “Thanks.”

Pyrrha couldn’t take it anymore. _He might work it out… Oh screw it._ She lunged in, arms flung around his waist and head buried against his shoulder. Jaune stumbled back at first, but was quick to snake his arms across her back, holding her close. She felt his arms against her, and she smiled into his blazer. He was hugging her back, so she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself. But then, they’d hugged before, such as when she broke down in tears before him… But she had literally thrown herself at him, an action speaking a lot for itself, and he didn’t push her away. In fact, he now gently swayed with her. Grinning now, she inhaled his scent. He smelt like how he always did – deodorant, the school’s fabric softener, a slight tinge of aftershave. 

“Do you always save damsels in distress like that?” she murmured against his chest.

“Only if I’m…” He stopped himself, shaking his head, and didn’t try to redo his answer, nor did he release her.

Only a couple metres away, their audience watched, fascinated. Sun and Neptune nudged one another, exchanging speculative smirks. Nora made a heart sign with her hands, and held it so that it framed the embracing pair.

“This _has_ to happen!” she breathed.

“Today,” Ruby agreed under her breath. “Well, let’s hope anyway – given that Pyrrha doesn’t want us doing _anything_ to help her,” she added with slight contempt tinting her whispering tone. Although… there was _one_ thing they could do. And it would be so subtle that not even Pyrrha would know who was behind it.

The bell cawed, and the couple instantly parted, blushing and laughing awkwardly as they realised that they must have hugged for a full minute or so. As the others filed passed them to retrieve their belongings ready for the next class, Jaune offered Pyrrha a bashful smile.

“Well, uh, happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.” 

It was spoken too quickly and cheerfully to be any kind of confession; it was just a friendly festive greeting. Never the less, Pyrrha chuckled melodiously, “And you.”

So her dream had sort of come true. From what she could remember, Jaune had said something along the lines of “Happy Valentine’s Day”, only she could distinctly recall him holding out a rose for her – inspired by their conversation a couple of days prior about the rose exchange at Sanctum. 

She sighed deeply as she picked up her bag. Her flattering admirer had turned out to be a hoax, but Jaune’s defensiveness and their long hug had soothed the pain. Shame he wasn’t offering her a rose in real life too. Shame there would be no roses at all.

And shame that he still had an equally flowery girlfriend to attend to this Valentine’s Day.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A note on why Pyrrha hates the cold: 

1) 'Pyrrha' comes from 'pyrrhus' meaning fire, so logic.

2) Though the mistral is a cold wind, I still think Mistral the kingdom is akin to the Mediterranean, so hot most times of the year. It would be the climate Pyrrha - or indeed many Haven students - would be used too. Same as how people from Atlas would love the snow - it reminds them of home, and Atlas is in the north and full of mountains. I have theory that Weiss, Nora and Ren are all from Atlas originally...


	14. Valentine Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune has his own card to deliver, while Peony wants to take their 'relationship' to the next level.

“Heart-shaped cookies.” Weiss’s tray clattered to the table while she plonked herself on the bench. “That’s the dessert special today. Tacky, if you ask me.”

“I think they’re awesome!” Nora chimed, holding the cookie before her face as if she was a food critic inspecting it. Pink icing drizzled across it in zigzags, dotted with tiny sugar hearts. Licking her lips, she thrust the cookie whole into her mouth, humming with approval as she munched. Ren rolled her eyes at her; she hadn’t even started her first course. He kept his own cookie closely guarded from her prying eyes.

“Guess even the cook’s been bitten by the love bug,” Yang chuckled.

As the usual lunchtime conversations drifted around them, Ruby kept a hawk-like eye on Jaune and Pyrrha opposite. They chatted as normal, perhaps with the odd nervous laugh from both sides after their long embrace not three hours ago. They both had spaghetti, and twirled their forks in the white strings almost simultaneously. Ruby focused on one particular strand, joining the two plates. It snaked from Pyrrha’s plate, along the table and up into Jaune’s meal, tangled deep with the others. It was all quite ingenious, really. Most students found out what was for lunch beforehand, and Ruby had seen _Duchess and the Stray_ recently enough to remember the iconic romantic meal scene.

She had struck when Jaune left to grab a fork which he’d previously forgotten, and Pyrrha leaned in for Nora to whisper something in her ear. Excusing herself to grab a drink, Ruby scuttled round the table ‘on route’. As she passed, she took a strand of spaghetti from Jaune’s plate, and dropped it on Pyrrha’s, linking the two. She returned with a carton of Udder Satisfaction milk.

Now, the pair slowly ate, none the wiser of Ruby’s feat. It was only a matter of time before the lone strand was caught up in the twirl a fork – namely, Pyrrha’s fork. Jaune also scooped a forkful, the strand catching in his as well. Pasta deposited in their respective mouths, the string now dangled between them. Neither looked at the other, and their lips fumbled to completely consume the strand. The link between them shortened. Subconsciously, they leaned towards each other. Ruby’s breath hitched. They were going to do it! They were going to have a spaghetti kiss!

The strand had their mouths only a few centimetres away…and Pyrrha’s head turned. She let out a startled squeak, alerting Jaune, whose eyes widened at the closeness of their lips. Blushing, Pyrrha took her knife and cut through the strand, splitting them asunder. Her half disappeared into her mouth. “That was close,” she giggled, and Jaune chuckled back, his half hanging limply from his lips.

The milk carton was squeezed to the point where its contents spilled. Ruby’s jaw clenched.

 _Damn._

 

Walking to the locker rooms before combat class, Jaune didn’t join in with the usual chatter that was exchanged between his team and Ruby’s. His thoughts swirled and spiralled. Everything had been so crazy lately, and while he suspected RWBY to be behind some of the…events that had occurred, others were more mysterious. Him and Pyrrha getting pushed together in that crowd, his hand meeting hers as they recollected her scattered papers, their hug, being so close to _kissing_ her all thanks to some spaghetti.

And he still had his valentine’s card to give her.

Beside him, she chatted with Blake about History, no trace of the pained, shocked look that filled her eyes when Cardin revealed her card to have been a fake.

Jaune smirked at the memory. He’d done what he needed to do as team leader and to assert his masculinity. If Cardin attacked, Pyrrha would tackle him to the ground and break every one of his limbs before Jaune would have a chance to retaliate. He’d wanted to prove himself to her, and the embrace they shared proved he succeeded. He also owed her; too long Peony had targeted her, and he’d seen the strong Pyrrha Nikos in tears, or glumly wrapped in her duvet. It wrenched his heartstrings to see her like that. At least now there was some improvement – Peony hadn’t even been seen all day, yet.

Up ahead, Weiss sashayed like a supermodel, ponytail swinging. Putting it on had been easy for her. With each rejection, Jaune felt an incentive to just keep trying – practicing, almost. What he thought was love turned out to be a giddy crush that he soon got over. What he felt now was different. Stronger, perhaps, and a lot scarier. It had been there for a long time, he realised, but in the past few weeks it had bloomed into something more. No way would he get away with pick-up lines – one wrong move and his friendship with Pyrrha would potentially be lost. A rejection from her would be more heart-breaking than any of Weiss’s, and he’d never bring himself to look her in the eye again. That was why he’d hidden it and played it cool for a while. But, being Valentine’s Day, he would act. Yet he’d still signed his card anonymously.

The locker room was close to empty, as teams RWBY and JNPR made it common practise to get there earlier, since they tended to change much slower as they talked. As he tied his shoelaces, Jaune peeked up through his fringe at the woman of his affections. She was fully changed, save her armour, and was currently reassembling her hair into its ponytail. It swung at her waist like twisting, red flames. The lean muscles in her arms bulged as she tied it, pushing her chest outwards. Jaune wiped the drool seeping down his chin, guilt creeping over him for his wandering eyes. But she _did_ have a gorgeous body, and a gorgeous personality to match. For a four-time tournament victor, she was one of the most modest people he’d ever met. She was so kind too, and smart, and humorous, and her dancing skills could rival his own. In his mind, she was the definition of perfect – even though when confronted with this description, Pyrrha always denied it with the fact that fighting, schoolwork and dancing were literally the only things she was good at. Sure, she couldn’t sing like Weiss, or write like Ruby or draw like Blake, but she didn’t need to. She was Pyrrha, just Pyrrha, no titles involved, and Jaune was more than fine with that.

“Hey, what’s this?” Nora’s voice snapped Jaune out of it, and he saw her reaching deep inside of his locker to bring out a pink envelope. She hardly glanced at it before she held it out to him, singing, “It’s for you.”

 _Well, who else would it be for?_ It was in _his_ locker after all. Straightening and taking it, his heart immediately sank. His name swirled before him in looping handwriting that could only be from one person. Groaning, he tore the paper along the top, and slipped the card out. A gaudy mess of hearts, flowers and every shade of pink and red imaginable blared at him, and he quickly flipped the card open to avert his eyes. That didn’t really help. The message inside was mushy and cringey.

_Dear Jaune,_  
_You have no idea how perfect you are! When I first saw you, I knew you were the one. I love your hair, your smile, your…_

For two whole sides, Peony’s handwriting gushed about his perfections and why they were so suited for each other, and what she’d hoped they’d do in the future. One phrase in particular stood out:

_Very soon, I’d like us to go all the way. I bet you’ve been waiting a while for me to say that! ;)_

His eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. So, Peony wanted to have sex with him. It would have happened at some point, he supposed. Many boys his age would celebrate receiving such a message. Flattered as Jaune was, his stomach also churned. Sure, he wanted to get laid, but not with _her._

“Everything ok?”

Pyrrha had crossed over to him as he read, her forehead creased with concern. Flicking the card shut, Jaune managed a strained smile. “Sure.”

At that moment, a pair of slim arms wrapped around his chest, and a body pressed closer than he deemed appropriate to his back.

“Guess who!” a honey-sweet voice lilted in his ear.

Jaune tried not to moan. There was no need to guess. Pyrrha’s stony stare had told him who it was before the voice.

“Hello, Peony,” he said, trying to sound bright. 

Giggling, Peony slipped between him and Pyrrha, and hooked her arms around his neck. She pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. Pyrrha looked away, and Jaune’s lips couldn’t keep up with Peony’s – or at least, he refused to let them to. His eyes remained open throughout the entire kiss, and when her mouth departed, the sweet taste of her lip gloss lingered on his lips.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” she beamed.

Jaune nodded. “And you.”

Her gaze fluttered to the card in his hand. “I see you’ve found my card.”

“Yep.”

“Good.” Simpering, she fingered the hem of her chequered skirt, and her shoulders swayed as she prompted, “So, aren’t you going to give me yours?”

_Uh oh._

Jaune’s hand flew to the back of his head, where he scratched uncertainly. He offered her a guilty smile. “Ah, your card…” He erupted his classic, quiet, high-pitched laugh which he used whenever he was nervous. “I, er, lost it in the…”

Behind Peony, Ruby had appeared, and badly disguised in a cough, _“Trash.”_

Jaune was quick to cover it. “In the _wind._ I mean, have you seen the weather today? There’s a blizzard out there now.”

A tinge of disappointment hinted in Peony’s eyes. None the less, she blessed him with an adoring smile, and clasped her hands to her heart. “Now even Mother Nature knows of our love,” she breathed wistfully.

Jaune stared at her, unable to believe he’d just gotten away with that. Pyrrha rubbed her forehead with both hands, and Ruby just walked away, not wanting to deal with the flower girl anymore. Further along and listening, Yang leaned into Blake.

“Have I already mentioned that this bitch is crazy?”

Blissfully oblivious to their reactions, Peony fluttered her eyelashes at her boyfriend with a flirtatious smile. “But you’ll have to make it up to me. Come to my dorm tonight at about eight. Your debt will easily be repaid.”

Jaune’s shoulders sagged – with relief and annoyance. Reluctantly, he answered, “Fine.” At least that would keep her at bay; she swaggered away to the changing cubicles now, and the weight her presence bore lifted off his shoulders. In truth, he never got her a card. What was the point when he had no intention of making her his valentine? 

His head tilted up as he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. Pyrrha smiled at him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she offered. 

He shrugged, not so sure. It had sounded rather dodgy to him… And, unbeknownst to him, but Pyrrha secretly though the same. As did everyone else who heard.

“Welp,” Yang sighed as she loaded her gauntlets. “Jaune’s gonna get his sweet ass raped tonight.”

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Jaune torn away from the group by Peony, who only seemed capable of gazing at him, holding his hand and kissing him. More cards were sent and received, Ren had a 'secret' admirer (who also apparently liked syrup a lot judging by the sticky stain on his card), and an overly-forward second year tried to appease Yang with outrageously lustful lines, and thus received a punch to the face.

The evening was filled with homework, a few rounds of _Remnant: The Game_ and Ren’s legendary pancakes. At quarter to eight, it was time for Jaune to tryst with his lover, and he wrenched himself from his comic, groaning. He could stay here, he didn’t _have_ to go. But his strong sense of righteousness forced him to go; he felt rather indebted to Peony, especially having lied about the card rather than just straight up admitting that he never got one. But he’d only done that to save himself and the others from her tyrannical screams.

But before he went to see her, there was one thing he needed to do.

Reaching into his school bag, he brought a white envelope into the world. Pyrrha was in the showers right now, so it was as good a time as any to do what he must. Swallowing, he laid it on Pyrrha’s bed, stomach tangling at the thought of what her reaction would be when she read it. After the case with Cardin, would she even believe it? Doubts clouded his thoughts – what if, somehow, she worked out that this card was from him? How could he speak to her again? How could they interact as team leader and teammate, as master and student, as friends?

Before he could hide the card away again, he forced himself out of the room, door slamming behind him.

Nora peeked up from her magazine, gaped at the door, then at the card on Pyrrha’s bed, back at the door, then at sleep-disturbed Ren.

“This _is_ happening!”

 

Hot, glorious water cascaded over her, running over her skin, drenching her hair to a sodden deep red. Steam clouded in the cubicle like warm, morning mist. Pyrrha was quite quick at washing herself, and the last of the foam was rinsed from her hair within ten minutes of getting in. She was quick at washing, but not so quick at showering as a whole. Her body rid of old sweat and dirt, she could now get on with the highlight. 

Slowly, her hands glided down her shoulders, her breasts, her hips, her thighs, gently caressing them in turn. When she did this, they weren’t her own hands – in her mind’s eye, they were Jaune’s. She reached back up to her breasts, teasing her own nipples – _Jaune_ was teasing her nipples. They hardened, and while one hand remained there, the other snaked down to rub her inner thigh, sliding over her torso as it went. While she massaged her breast and thigh, she pictured Jaune, naked. His well-toned chest heaved with each deep, sultry breath. The muscles in his arms rippled as he touched her. The amount of meat he’d gained over the past year was impressive, and Pyrrha was more than glad to be the culprit. As for his… _lower region_ , that she’d never seen and would make it up from scratch: a generous erection stood to attention, pulsing in desire. 

He _wanted_ her.

Her own lower regions a pool of molten need, Pyrrha – or rather, Jaune – breezed over her labia and clitoris. A wave of pleasure shocked through her body like electric, and she knew she was ready. Biting her lip, she further parted her legs, and her hand slipped in. Two fingers burrowed inside her, igniting another shock, causing her to gasp. Her hand retracted, palm rubbing against her clit, and she thrust in again. Retract, thrust, retract, thrust. Magnificent, glorious pleasure rippled up through to her waist area with the friction, and tiny moans escaped her mouth. The arousal and the pouring water heated her up considerably, and she leant against the cool tiles to soothe her back, and to support her jelly-like legs. Water rained onto her face, but it didn’t matter; her eyes were closed to solidify Jaune’s naked form. She ground her hips in time with the movement, while her other hand grasped her breast. It was Jaune’s fingers inside her, not her own. Jaune was the one providing her with all this pleasure.

As the waves surged from both her vagina and her clit, a pressure built somewhere inside her – in the vicinity of her womb. Imaginary Jaune thrust faster and more forcefully, real Pyrrha’s moans grew louder, beyond her control, spitting out the water as she went. The pressure grew, before finally, there was no going back. It exploded, light consumed her entire being, and she cried out. Jaune’s hands continued fingering and her hips bucking to ride out the orgasm for as long as possible. It lasted a good while, and so did her ecstatic groans. They died down together, and Pyrrha was left panting, the tiles behind her heated red hot from her back. She removed her hand, her cave now feeling unnaturally empty, and washed her fingers slick with her fluids in the shower. Opening her eyes, the vision of Jaune shattered, and she found herself alone in the cubicle, with only the afterglow of her orgasm for company.

 

She returned to her dorm damp and clad in only her towel – a common practice even with mixed teams, so long as a proper proportion of the body was covered. When she arrived though, her teammates were nowhere to be seen. Ren and Nora would have gone to the kitchen downstairs to make yet more pancakes, and presumably a hungry Jaune had gone with them. With his growing muscle and height, it was only natural that he needed to eat a lot more.

Scooping her waist-length hair over one shoulder, Pyrrha combed her fingers through the strands as she approached her bed, absentminded as she recalled her _entertainment_ in the shower. That was why she only realised the envelope was there as she was about to sit down. She picked it up as if it were the most delicate thing in the world, and scrutinized her own name, scrawled across the envelope in unrecognisable handwriting and scarlet ink. Breath hitching, she turned it over to peel it open. The card that slid out made her crack a smile. Two cute little dogs gazed up at the shattered moon, one with its head on the other’s shoulder, tails entwined. The words ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ swirled in the sky. Three thoughts crossed Pyrrha’s mind: it was a really nice card, it could be another hoax, and how did it end up on her bed? The latter she extended on – did that mean it was from one of her teammates? Or perhaps someone outside of JNPR asked one of them to give her the card?

Gently, she opened it, and fervently read the message inside.

_To Pyrrha,_  
_You’re amazing, beautiful, smart, and for more than those reasons alone, I’ve been in love with you for a while, and will remain so. I know, it’s cowardly to hide by writing this instead of just telling you, but this is legit the scariest thing I’ve ever done – and it has NOTHING to do who you are. Well, maybe a little…_  
_Anyway._  
_Happy Valentine’s Day._  
_Sincerely, earnestly, truly, madly, deeply, etc,_  
_Some guy who loves you._

She collapsed onto the bed, gasping for air. This was real, right? It _had_ to be real! It was the most sincere message she’d had today. While Cardin’s fake had been hastily scribbled, this one’s letters were overly neat and meticulously crafted, proving that the writer had disguised their own script. Additionally, there was a little extra on the other side of the message: a drawing of a rose. It had been done in the same red ink as the writing, with the petals shaded in. For such a complicated flower, it wasn’t actually that bad a drawing. 

Her heart hammered to the point where she could see her skin beating. As much as she didn’t want it to be, it could be another prank. A second opinion was needed, and with no pedantic Ren about, or anyone, she would have to take it across the hall. 

Weiss was the one who answered the enthusiastic knocks, and was taken rather aback by the sight of the taller girl wrapped from her chest to her thighs in a towel – one bad slip away from complete nudity. Pyrrha had been too desperate for answers to think about donning something more appropriate. She handed the card to the Ice Queen.

“I just found this on my bed. D’you think it’s genuine?”

The rest of team RWBY crowded around it, reading over Weiss’s shoulder. Yang smirked and clapped Pyrrha’s back, Blake and Weiss narrowed their eyes in scrutiny, and Ruby just gaped.

“It seems real,” Weiss said at last. “There seems to be a lot more personality involved.”

“And the handwriting and the rose look far too thought about to be a prank,” Blake added. “It’s more like the work of someone trying to impress.”

“Congrats.” Weiss blessed her with a rare, warm smile as she handed the card back to Pyrrha, who just beamed down at it.

It was true. Someone liked her. Unlikely to be Jaune, but it was someone. And it was real. But then, why the rose? Could it be…?

She thanked the girls heartily, before twirling rather like Nora back into her dorm, door gently closing behind her.

“Such a shame that it probably isn’t from the guy she wants,” Weiss sighed as she retreated to her bed. Blake and Yang followed, murmuring in agreement. 

From the entrance, Ruby stared at their wing team’s closed door. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said. She’d recognised the vibrant, red ink with a hint of glitter – she had a pen just like it. And that pen had been lent to Jaune… _when he was writing a card._ Even more so, he later on asked for her pencil case to copy one of the roses from it. And there the rose was, a fairly decent depiction of it in the same ink.

_Holy Oum… YES!!!_

 

He balled his hand into a fist, and hovered it before the door. He didn’t want to be here. He ached to see Pyrrha’s reaction to his card; she probably would have discovered it by now, but how would she act when she showed it to him? Would she be flattered, or weirded out? Had she worked out who sent it? As he crossed to the exchange students’ block, he kept wondering if the rose was too much of a giveaway. He’d included it in the spur of the moment, recalling their conversation about past valentine experiences. She had mentioned the giving and receiving of roses in Sanctum, and he had managed with the next best thing. But upon seeing it, would Pyrrha think the same?

Not wanting to think about it any longer, he brought his fist to the door, knocking three times.

“Come in,” Peony’s voice purred from within.

Taking a deep breath, Jaune obeyed. He peeked his head around the door, and was instantly struck by the dimness of the room, lit by only one lamp. Gingerly, he stepped in, dutifully closing the door behind him.

Peony stood in the centre of the room, in a dress he’d never seen before. It seemed to be pink – of course – with flowery straps, and a very short skirt that exposed almost the full length of her long legs, bronzed in the light. She was the only one there.

“Hey, Jaune,” she said, low and sultry, rouged lips curved in a coy smile.

Jaune gulped, his wandering eyes betraying him. “Hey.”

“Why don’t you come a little closer?”

He did her bidding, and she stood on her tiptoes to deliver a full kiss on the mouth.

“I guess you’ve been wondering how I want you to pay off your debt,” she said, gazing intently up into his eyes, moistening her lips.

“Uh…yeah.”

“Well then. Allow me to enlighten you…” Her eyes locked on his, she stepped back and reached for the straps of her dress, peeling them off her shoulders. The light fabric slid down her body, exposing her.

Jaune’s throat constricted. _Oh my God._ Peony was now almost naked, wearing only her underwear. Thin, lacy panties matched the floral brassiere that pushed up her breasts in a highly seductive fashion. And there was skin on show that he’d never seen before – her hips, belly, highest point of the thighs, all smooth and supple, and probably sprayed with perfume.

She smirked. “Like what you see?” She caressed her own body, one hand pushing her breast even higher to the point where Jaune swore he saw a bit of nipple. She stalked closer to him. “You can have it all.”

He wanted to back away, but felt that he couldn’t. “What?” he breathed. It didn’t help that his eyes wouldn’t focus on her face anymore.

“I said in my card that I would go all the way with you soon,” Peony purred, running a finger down his breast plate. “And the time has come.” Her eyes locked on his. “I want you to make love to me.”

The words struck Jaune like a needle coring deep into his chest. “What?” he repeated, louder this time in alarm.

“Have sex with me,” said Peony, her eyes pleading. “My team are on dates of their own, probably having sex themselves, so they won’t be back for a long time. I want you to hold me, touch me, be _inside_ me.” She grabbed his hand and planted it firmly on her bosom. Jaune froze, staring at it. His fingertips met the top of the breast while the palm enclosed the silky cup. _He was touching a tit!_

She squeezed his hand, forcing it to caress her. “Make love to me,” she whispered, and came up for another kiss.

While Jaune’s body relished the thought – as indicated by the hardening between his legs – his head did not. Why couldn’t this be Pyrrha wanting him? If he gave into Peony, he would ultimately be betraying the girl he really loved. No doubt Peony wouldn’t stay quiet about their intimacy, she’d use it as another weapon to belittle his friends with. How would he face Pyrrha then?

Peony now brought his other hand between her legs, at which he pulled away – lips, hands and all. He stepped back, unable to look at her.

“I can’t,” he whispered.

It was Peony’s turn to say, “What?”

“I can’t do it.”

The near-naked girl frowned in consternation. “Why? Do you have erectile dysfunction or something?”

“No, no.” He raised his eyes at her. Guilt washed over him, but he swallowed it down. “I can’t have sex with you.” He inhaled deeply. “I _won’t.”_

“You don’t want to have sex with me?”

“No. I mean, yes – no, I mean, I don’t want to have sex with you. So I won’t.”

Magenta eyes pooled with tears. “But…why?”

There was no going back now. He had to put her straight, for the greater good of them both, Pyrrha and the others. “You do remember that the reason why I’m going out with you is so you don’t hurt my friends, right?”

She looked pointedly away. “Yeah. But I hoped in time you’d really love me.”

His tone sharpened, “Well, it’ll never work. I’m sorry, Peony, but it was stupid to begin with. I only said yes out of desperation, and I’ll never fall for it again – just as I’ll never fall for you.” He realised how harsh he must be sounding, but this was the girl who called Pyrrha names and vandalised her locker. “And now you want us go all the way. I won’t betray myself like that. I owe you nothing – I never even got you a card in the first place. I _lied.”_

She gaped at him, and one tear slipped down her cheek. “You lied to me?”

“About one thing, whereas you’ve consistently targeted my friends. I’m not going to take any more of it. You’re a deluded girl who needs to grow up, and by abiding to your every wish for the sake of my friends, I admit I’ve made it worse. So, no more. I’m breaking up with you – again. This time for good.”

Rather than bursting into a hysterical fit of sobs, Peony stamped her foot and glowered at him. “You’re dumping me on Valentine’s Day?”

Jaune shrugged. “I don’t care what day it is, so long as we’re through. Goodbye, Peony. Leave us alone forever now.”

“Jaune, wait!” She reached round to unclip her bra, and tore the material from her arms. Her bare breasts were presented before an empty spot and an ajar door as Jaune’s running footsteps echoed down the hall.

 

He ran all the way. Snow crunched beneath his feet, he slipped on a couple of ice patches, but didn’t fall. It felt awkward at first, what with the stiffness rubbing against his jeans, but the cold soon sorted that out, and by the time he was inside again he could sprint at his full capacity. He leapt up the stairs two at a time before he reached his floor, where he slowed to a jog, then a walk as he neared his dorm. The door stood slightly ajar, with only a crack of yellow light beaming through. Faint music pounded out into the hall, along with a voice. Intrigued, Jaune silently pushed the door open and stood stock still at the entrance.

Oblivious to him, Pyrrha span and twirled while she sang slightly off-key along to ‘Shine’, which blared out of her scroll on her bed. She held her hairbrush to her mouth like a microphone, her damp hair whipping with her in heavy strands. Jaune swallowed, feeling a stirring in his pants once again. She was wearing only a towel. If it were to fall…

 _“Baby, it’s time to make up your miiiiiiiind. I think that tonight is when our stars aliiiiiiiign…”_ Her eyes remained closed as she submersed herself in the song, now performing parts of the dance she showcased with her team last semester. _“Honey, right now you leave the doubt behiiiiiind. Take my hand ‘cause you and I are gonna shiiiiiiiine!”_ She prepared herself for the next verse, so happening to open her eyes to see where she was going – and froze.

Jaune stood in the doorway, mouth hung open.

In humiliation and shock, Pyrrha screamed, which in turn caused Jaune to scream back. 

“I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING! I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING! I PROMISE! OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY!” He covered his eyes, giving her enough time to dive under the bedcovers. 

And then: “Wrong bed!” She untangled herself from Jaune’s sheets to plunge under her own. Her scroll landed on the floor, song still bopping away. 

Jaune peeked over his hands, and seeing all was decent enough, stepped in. “I am really sorry about that,” he said, blush spreading from his ears to his cheeks. God, what was it with him and near-naked women today? “I absolutely promise I didn’t see anything.”

Completely submersed in her covers, Pyrrha’s muffled voice glumly replied, “Apart from my awful performance.”

Jaune straightened his crumpled sheets, chuckling. “I thought it was pretty good. You looked like you were really enjoying yourself.” Pyrrha expelled a groan of protest, and he hastily continued, “That’s not what I meant anyway. I meant I didn’t see anything…well, you know, _anything.”_

A green eye peeked from under the covers, waiting for him to clarify.

“You know…anything _indecent.”_ He set about removing his armour, first tugging off his gauntlets.

Pyrrha’s whole head appeared, glaring at him. “You don’t repeat this to anyone, understand? Not even me.”

She received a mischievous snicker. “Or what?” Jaune said. “You’ll break my legs?”

She flung her pillow at him, hitting him in the head. Laughing, he threw it back at her, and it landed somewhere behind her head. She couldn’t help but giggle with him; he could just be so _adorable._

He shook his head, hair flailing. “No, I won’t tell anyone. I promise – Arc honour.” His shoulder guards fell to his bed, followed by his body armour. It took a lot of work to keep himself from trembling. He still didn’t know what she thought of the card. And he had a revelation to give her. He pulled his hoody off, revealing the simple white shirt underneath. He turn to Pyrrha, who had now crawled further out of her cocoon to expose her shoulders. The covers remained pressed to her chest, squashing her breasts to showcase an ample cleavage. Jaune quickly averted his eyes, and bent down to pick up her scroll, pausing the song.

“I have something to tell you,” he said, placing it on Pyrrha’s matrass.

The redhead raised her head. “Oh?”

Jaune sank onto his own bed. “I dumped Peony, for good this time.”

“You did what?” She sat up on the bed, hugging the sheets around her. The towel underneath had given up and slipped off completely now.

“I broke up with Peony,” Jaune repeated. “And it was about time too. I should never have gone out with her in the first place.”

Pyrrha closed her eyes and took deep breaths to allow the news to sink in. “Honestly,” she said, “I’m not sure whether to offer you my condolences or congratulations. But what’s the reason this time? And on Valentine’s Day?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jaune said simply, “She tried to have sex with me.” Pyrrha’s wide eyes and hanging mouth prompted him to explain further, and he told her everything that happened: Peony taking her clothes off, getting him to touch her, the argument. For such a sensitive subject, he was pleasantly surprised by how easily it flowed out, especially with Pyrrha as his audience. She listened attentively, and when he’d finished, she very calmly said, “You did the right thing.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “You think?”

“Of course. You didn’t give in to her. A lot of boys would jump at the opportunity if sex was just handed out to them, but the fact that you didn’t shows a lot of strength.” She smiled. “And that’s what makes you a good leader – and friend.”

Jaune smiled back, then added uncertainly, “Are you ok with me telling you all that? It _is_ a bit of an awkward subject.”

“Of course it’s fine!” Her tone heightened in pitch at such a question. “I’m your first mate and best friend – I’ll listen to anything you want to tell me.” The only thing awkward – and ironic – about this topic was the fact that she was naked under the covers as he told her.

“So,” said Jaune. He couldn’t delay it any longer. “Aside from your little performance, how’ve you been?” He tugged at his shirt, and slid it over his head. His toned chest glowed in the light, and the hints of abs grew more defined with each passing week. Pyrrha tried not to stare. She’d seen Jaune topless plenty of times before, yet it took her breath away each time. The more times she saw him like this, the easier it became to imagine when she…

She shook her head, focusing on the conversation at hand. “I’ve been fine. In fact…” Should she tell him? Well, he’d told her about his eventful evening, she could at least tell him of hers. “I got another valentine’s card.”

Trying to sound nonchalant, Jaune replied with a simple, “Oh?” 

“And I think it’s real this time,” Pyrrha went on. “So does team RWBY.”

He flinched. “You showed it to them?”

“I needed a second opinion, and you, Ren and Nora weren’t here when I found it.” With no one around, she’d also seized the opportunity to sing and dance in happiness. Performances like this had always been rare, and they were certainly never meant to be seen.

Meanwhile, Jaune fiddled with his folded pyjamas on his lap. _Crap._ It was highly likely that Ruby would have seen it, and she would at least recognise the rose he’d drawn – she’d snuck a few peeks over the barrier of books every now and then. She _knew,_ now! What would she do then? Tell Pyrrha?

“Well,” he said, managing to smile up at her. “I’m happy for you.” Then he chuckled, adding, “Looks like we both have secret admirers to identify.”

“Yeah,” Pyrrha returned, her giggle more strained. That was all very well him saying that, she knew who his admirer was, and she prayed he’d never find out.

Grasping the blue pyjamas in one hand, Jaune rose to his feet. “I’ll let you put something on,” he murmured, and quit the room. Pyrrha watched him go – watched that toned, glorious back go. When she was alone again, she flopped on the matrass, sighing. Her nethers were wet with wanting once again, but now wasn’t the time to oblige herself. Fishing her bed clothes from down the side of the bed against the wall, she slipped them on, missing the sensual feel of sheets against naked skin. The towel was plucked from the tangled covers, and she set about drying her hair with it, surprising herself with a loud, vocal yawn.

Yes indeed, it had been a long, and very eventful day.

______________________________________________________________________

And thus, I have a reason for the M warning


	15. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wintery showdown between RWBY, JNPR and CRDL ensues, and Peony is irate when she catches Jaune and Pyrrha sharing a _moment._

The snow remained firm and thick the following day. The lake was completely iced over, though it was advised not to try skating on it, due to the ice being thinner in some places. But entertainment in the snow was permitted, especially since it was Saturday and students would be wearing their own clothes rather than the uniforms getting wet and damaged.

Ruby, Weiss and Nora were perhaps the most eager to venture outside; Weiss simply desiring to stroll in the crisp, icy beauty. Blake, Yang and Pyrrha were not enthusiastic about it. At all.

“Snow’s wet!” Blake whimpered, ears flattening under the bow as the notorious fear of most cats gripped her.

“It’ll ruin my hair!” Yang moaned, holding her thick locks protectively in her hands.

“It’s _cold,”_ Pyrrha wailed, hugging her body as if she were out in it already. 

Needless to say, it took some persuading to get them to go out. Pyrrha only went because of Jaune going as well, and trudged through the snow in the thickest coat and boots she owned, gloved hands buried in her pockets and scarf pulled up to her chin, still shivering. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the snow was up to halfway on her shins, and seeped down the tops of her boots. She was surprised by Yang’s arm slipping through hers, the blonde’s other arm linked with Blake’s, huddling them together as they walked.

“You could ask Jaune to warm you up later,” Yang said with a sly wink, and Pyrrha bit back an embarrassed smile. The others had all been told by the man in question that his relationship with Peony was over for good, and there were no commiserations – only the shaking of Jaune’s hand and relieved words. The news was received by a particularly loud cheer on Ruby’s part, who, having worked out the identity Pyrrha’s secret admirer, felt that fortune was smiling down on them, and that now was as good a time as any to confront him.

She walked ahead of the others beside Jaune, first of all discussing video games as they drifted further in front. It wasn’t until they passed the dining hall that Ruby checked over her shoulder for the hundredth time, and deemed it safe to talk about the sensitive topic.

She started with two words, floating off her tongue in an icy fog, “I know.” 

Jaune frowned. “Know what?”

“I _know.”_

“Huh?”

Ruby scowled. She had hoped that by sounding all mysterious, Jaune would get it and crumple in terror at her knowledge. But no. Quite bluntly, she said, “Pyrrha showed us her card.”

Jaune gulped. He had wondered if Ruby would bring this up, and hoped that it was him she confronted rather than Pyrrha, so at least he could beg her not to spill to the red-haired warrior. None the less, he responded with, “And?”

 _“And_ I know it was you who sent it to her.” She looked up at him now. A smug smile spread across her lips at the boy’s clenched jaw and eyes staring firmly ahead and refusing to look at her. Devious and little sister-like, Ruby pressed on slyly, “I could go tell her.”

This got a more abrupt reaction; Jaune stabbed her with a sharp gaze. “Don’t you dare.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I won’t have to if you tell her yourself.”

Realising that he shouldn’t have acted so obviously, Jaune huffed, and walked briskly on. He should have concealed his emotions, he’d snared himself, and now she had infallible proof of his feelings. Ruby had to scamper to catch up with him, and they drifted further ahead of the others.

“Come _on_ , Jaune!” she protested, grabbing him by the elbow. “Pyrrha wouldn’t be harsh like Weiss was. And you’d make a cuter couple, she suits you better than Weiss, she _likes_ you more than Weiss does.” The last point wasn’t false, but purposefully softened for Pyrrha’s benefit.

The sigh that drew from Jaune swirled about him like a dancing, smoky dragon. “Thank you, but I’m not sure I suit her.”

“Don’t let her status scare you off!”

He snorted. “I really don’t give a damn about her status. She’s just Pyrrha to me.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Please stop there, Ruby. You’re not the easiest person to talk to about this kind of stuff.”

The girl scoffed. She’d heard that before. “I might be more helpful than you think. And I regard you as an older brother, so I’m all ears to whatever’s on your mind.”

Another sigh clouded around Jaune. “No, Ruby, I think I just need some bro time.”

“But I just said that I see you as an... _ohhh.”_ Now she understood. Jaune needed a fellow male to discuss this with. A musing smile lit up her face. That could be arranged…

As she thought, the steady beat of Jaune’s heavy boots crunching in the snow suddenly stopped, causing the air to feel eerily empty. Ruby glanced up at him, to see him glaring at something ahead. She followed his eyes, and groaned.

Out on the open space by the dining hall, team CRDL, donning no more than coats over their casual wear, busily harvested large snowballs and flung them at any unsuspecting passers-by. If Ruby and Jaune were to advance further, they’d surely get hit. And what about the others, CRDL could spot them too and take the assault to them.

Not on Jaune Arc’s watch. He crouched down and scooped a generous clump of snow, wincing as the cold bit through his old, worn gloves. Ruby watched as he moulded it into a rough snowball.

“What are you doing?”

“Gotta get them before they get the others,” Jaune explained, and he took aim, and threw.

And missed.

The snow bomb splatted on the ground right by Cardin, who glared down at it, then up in the direction it had come, and straight at Jaune. The blond reached up to nervously scratch his head under his woolly hat, and Ruby facepalmed. Cardin alerted his teammates, and the four murmured and cackled together, no doubt thinking up some glorified scheme to exact their revenge on Jaune – not only for the snowball, but yesterday’s humiliating dick kick.

“Oh boy,” Ruby sighed, subconsciously tightening her cape about her shoulders. “They’re going to throw loads of snowballs at us aren’t they? Four against two.”

“I wouldn’t say that. They others will back us up once they get here. And besides” – he turned – “I don’t think they’ll stand a chance ag–” Something cold and hard struck his face, exploding into powdery fragments. He whipped round at his rival team across the plain, who howled with laughter. Seething, and the melting snow trickling down under his clothes like icy claws, Jaune bent to make another snowball. He threw it, and this time hit Cardin on the thigh – near the groin. The team halted their laughter, and retaliated. All at once, four snowballs arched through the air and hit Jaune as he constructed one of his own. The makings of his projectile shattered on the ground as he fell back. Snow splattered across his front like white bullet holes. Meanwhile, CRDL prepared another attack.

“I got your back, bro!” Though notoriously bad at throwing, Ruby’s snowball flung across the plain with surprising speed and accuracy and barely whizzed past Dove’s shoulder. She cried out in frustration, then in alarm as Dove’s counterattack struck her in the belly, making her stumble.

“GET YOUR ASS AWAY FROM MY SISTER!” A huge, snowy boulder plummeted onto the offender, and Dove was flattened under a heap of snow. Yang stood on the other end of the plain from Jaune and Ruby, fists clenched. Nora scampered by her side with Ren, followed by the other three.

While Russell dug Dove out of the snow, Cardin boomed back at the blonde, “We’re not afraid to hit girls, you know! _Oof!”_ He glared in the direction of the latest snowball, pieces of it stuck in his hair, water trickling down his cheek and neck.

Jaune grinned, allowing pride to take over, and fistpumped. “Finally! I got his face!”

“That’s it!” The arch-bully pointed a dramatic finger at the leaders of his rival teams. “This is war!”

As if on cue, his team – the newly restored Dove included – assembled more balls and rained them down on Jaune and Ruby. The two ran, Ruby speeding ahead with her semblance and Jaune pounding through the snow beside the dining hall. Snow burst on the walls in a successive trail behind him, and he only just managed to dodge one thrown into his path. The sheer thickness of the snow made him move a lot slower than he would have liked. 

Their teams sprinted to them, and Ruby reached them before they could get halfway. “Blake and I will make snowballs!” she blurted breathlessly, only just comprehensible. “Yang throw. Weiss guards with her glyphs!”

As the girls got to work, Pyrrha, Nora and Ren ran on towards their leader. The quickest of the three, Ren made it to him first, and dutifully kicked and struck with his arms the incoming assault. This sparked an idea in Jaune’s mind. Before the girls had time to recover from the difficult run, he briefed them and Ren, and they biddably took action. 

Ren defended, running onto the plain ahead of them and continuing his shattering of the snowballs. This allowed Nora to make her own and throw them back at CRDL. Behind them, Jaune and Pyrrha scooped large clumps of snow and deposited it on a growing pile before them. Glancing from her snowball-building a few metres away, Ruby raised her eyebrows in acknowledgment of Jaune’s plan. They were constructing a barrier, or a trench.

But they would have to be quicker, and to do that they needed help.

“Keep going,” said Jaune through gritted teeth. The snow beneath them had been scraped to the point where grass poked through, and the ground behind them was looking set to head that way too. The abundance of snow and their quick, large hands had allowed the snow break to grow to their chests while kneeling in just a few minutes. But they would have to work faster, as evidenced by Ren’s lagging movements and Jaune getting hit in the face again.

Snow crunched and a blur of blonde hair skidded beside them, and another pair of hands piled more snow onto the wall.

“Ruby thought you might need the help,” Yang explained.

Jaune glanced gratefully over at the caped girl, who busily made and passed snowballs to Blake to hurl at CRDL. This at least had Dove and Lark distracted, whose onslaught either missed or hit Weiss’s vertical glyphs.

Finally, Ren’s notorious stamina got the better of him, and he fell flat on his back when a snowball smashed into his head. Squealing for her friend, Nora abandoned her battle to drag Ren by the arms back to the safety of the wall, more snowballs hitting them as they went. The wall was large enough to hide them when lying against it, and was set to grow even bigger. While Ren recovered, Nora continued her attack, leaping up from behind the barrier to bombard Cardin and Russell with her wintery grenades.

“Surely it’s big enough now,” Pyrrha muttered as she piled another large handful of snow onto the pile. It was up to her chin, and about 6 foot long. Not only that, but her hands were so cold they _burned,_ and her fingertips and toes were so numb they _ached_ –things she wasn’t even aware were possible. 

But Jaune insisted that it needed to be a little bigger to be fully effective, so she persisted, for him. Meanwhile, Blake was growing tired, and her throws became more sluggish, barely hitting the target. Dove and Lark picked up on it like beowolves stalking an injured deer, and bashed the bookworm at least four times before she fell to the ground, bruised and frozen. 

“Well, that’s that!” Weiss snapped in frustration, backing closer to Blake to protect her more effectively. She herself was growing more and more fatigued from the extensive use of her semblance. It wouldn’t be long before she relented too.

Ruby ceased making snowballs, seeing no way other than her own pathetic strength to launch them. She glanced at the snow barrier, still being constructed but big enough to squeeze a couple more people.

“You two go to the wall!” she ordered. “I’ll deal with these guys.”

“Ruby, we both know you’re about as good at throwing as–”

“Just _go!”_

Before Weiss could snap back, Blake had heaved herself to her feet and dragged the heiress to sanctuary. Ruby pulled her hood over her head, crouched down with one hand on the ground, her left leg extended behind and right foot under her body ready to push. Snowballs shot past, one skimming her hood. She locked her eyes dead on the two aggressors, felt her semblance charge through her body like warm water down to her legs, and ran.

Dove and Lark didn’t even have time to scream, as the red dart zoomed past them, pushing the air against their clothes in a blustery breeze. Snow was sprayed in her path, coating her victims as good as any blizzard. She skidded to a halt, slipped and fell onto her side, clambered back up and started again. This time she aimed for Cardin and Russell, who had turned at the disturbance and braced themselves ready for this one. Cardin even prepared himself in a stance to catch the red bullet.

He didn’t stand a chance. The speed at which she propelled knocked him flat on his back, and she slid to a halt by the wall. Covered in the snow thrown over him, Cardin barely had time to recompose himself another streak of red blew him back, blinding him with the kicked up snow.

Peeking up from their wall, Jaune grinned at Ruby’s attacks. Team CRDL helplessly flailed around in the blizzard as red blurred between them, rose petals mingling with snowflakes. No time for mercy now, CRDL deserved everything that was coming to them.

Much to Pyrrha’s relief, he declared the wall to be finished, and immediately followed with, “Let’s get ‘em!” He began, flinging a quickly-sculpted lump into the spraying snow, shattering upon impacting Russell’s arm. He, Nora and Yang leapt over the wall, urged by the spirit of battle, scooping up snow and pummelling it down on the clueless adversary. Weiss, Blake and Ren remained behind the barrier to recover, while Pyrrha staggered across, blowing furiously on her hands to warm them back up. She doubted she could ever touch snow again.

The first three to go over stayed well away from the blizzard and Ruby’s path, but their hail of snow grenades easily hit the confused bullies. Some tried to strike back, but either missed or hit one of their own team. Spurred by determination, Pyrrha and her still-frozen hands joined in the fray, bombarding the team with unmatched precision and ferocity. 

_This is for Jaune._

She hit Lark.

_And that’s for Jaune._

She smashed Dove.

_This one is for me._

She struck Russell

_And this is for you._

She sent Cardin flying back a satisfying amount of feet as her largest projectile exploded against his chest.

The battle ensued for as long as Ruby could manage her semblance. The attackers retreated to the wall every so often to recover their cold hands and tired legs, taking it in turns to obtain refuge. Ren, Blake and Weiss re-entered the fight before long, and it was back to four against eight. That said, Ruby was growing tired. Her bursts of speed lasted for shorter distances, and they no longer sprayed as much snow or scattered as many petals. This allowed CRDL to regain their composure somewhat, and start counterattacking again. Cardin was particularly brutal, fuelled by the unrelenting desire to exact revenge on them all. His shots were careless at first due to his anger, increasing each time he got hit. But a few attempts and he landed a solid, snowy blow right on Jaune’s ear.

Clutching his scarlet ear, Jaune retreated, another snowball hitting his back. Why was it the ear that hurt the most? Perhaps because there was snow melting inside it as well as the pain of the impact. He leapt over the snow barrier and sat against it, clenching his teeth over his cowardice. He would get back out there in a minute, and he would push Cardin’s smug little face so deep into the snow it would–

“Hi.”

Jaune turned, and met the brilliant green gaze of Pyrrha. She offered him a feeble smile, and she wrung her gloved hands together as if keeping them still would freeze them forever.

“Hi,” he returned. “Are you alright?”

“I’m just a bit cold,” she answered, teeth chattering each time she was silent. “I can’t hold the snow anymore, much less make my fingers mould a ball of it.”

On impulse, Jaune abandoned his aching ear and reached across to take her hands in his, gently rubbing them between his palms.

“I found out the best way to warm someone up is to exchange body heat,” he said, and a nervous chuckle followed. “So, like, hugging them and things. Preferably with as little clothing between them as possible.” 

_That sounds so wrong…_

Pyrrha’s lips curved in an amused smile. Jaune was having another adorable moment. She could do with a hug from him right now, to warm her up. And with no clothes on. _Ohhh…_

She blinked, clearing her mind of the sensual reveries. A spark of warmth regenerated in her hands, though her fingers were still painfully numb. Still, she would fight again, for him.

“I think I’m ready,” she murmured.

Jaune nodded, releasing her hands. “Alright. But maybe throw from here in case your hands get cold again.”

Enlightened at the idea, Pyrrha leapt up from behind the barrier and re-engaged the fight with glee. When Jaune joined her shortly after, her attacks became more energetic, as if she fed off his very presence. CRDL were regaining their senses as the blizzard was almost none existent, and Ruby was needing time to recover from each speed burst, rendering her vulnerable to attacks, though the others tried to defend her when she was close by. Soon enough she skidded to an area nowhere near anyone else, and Cardin seized the opportunity. He hoisted the snowball high, ready to hurl, only for it to be knocked out of his hand in a shattering of white, like frosted glass. He glared in the direction it had come. Above the barrier, Jaune and Pyrrha high-fived.

“Nice shot!” Jaune laughed, and Pyrrha cracked a pleased grin. She latched onto his smiling face, and as time felt like it had slowed down, felt unable to tear her eyes away. He had a truly wonderful smile that made his eyes light up with it.

Lost in the moment, she didn’t notice Cardin’s snowy projectile heading towards her. But Jaune did, and his warrior instincts kicked in, prompting him to take action. In a single leap, he grabbed the champion and tackled her to the ground, landing atop her behind their snow barrier. The snowball flew through where Pyrrha’s head would have been and disintegrated upon impact somewhere far away. She gaped at it, realising what had caused Jaune to act so brashly, and gazed up at him in gratitude. 

Then blushed at the closeness of his face. 

They’d landed in a very compromising position, him on top of her, between her legs, chests touching, mouths a breath away.

“Uh…” Jaune smiled awkwardly down at her, misty breath dancing on her face. “Hi.”

Pyrrha returned the smile. “Hi.”

He laughed nervously. “Um, sorry.”

She giggled, red spreading across her face – from shyness and cold. “Don’t worry. Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome.” There was something pleasant about their position, perhaps the closeness of their bodies transferring warmth to each other. Maybe it was the fact that he was between her legs. His stomach clenched at the thought, and he hoped that Pyrrha couldn’t feel the hardening pushed against her…her… Shunning the arousing thought away, Jaune hoisted himself off, kneeling in the snow, and extended a hand to help the redhead up. Their hands locked, and they giggled at the moment like a couple of giddy schoolkids. 

Behind them, the war was almost won. Half of team CRDL lay in the snow, beaten and exhausted. Cardin would fight until the bitter end – which would be soon when faced with the heavy, brutal bombardment of Yang Xiao Long and Nora Valkyrie.

On the edge of the plain, however, away from the snowball fight, another war remained steadfast. Team POPI were walking by in the snow, not a particularly nice activity for the flower girls but being cooped up in their dorm block was so boring. They would have fallen victim to CRDL’s sneaky snowball sniping had not the fight started. They passed as it was coming to an end, and Peony halted at the sight of movement. 

Her blond ex threw himself onto her red-haired rival, both toppling behind a wall of snow. They didn’t get back up straight away, from her angle, Peony could tell that Jaune’s feet were between Pyrrha’s. That meant he was between her _legs_ , which meant…

Realisation, jealousy, and hurt all washed over her in an emotional tsunami. Pyrrha was the reason she and Jaune had split up. Pyrrha Nikos had stolen him, and there was nothing anyone could do or say to convince her otherwise.

The pair’s heads popped up behind the barrier, and appeared to be laughing.

They wouldn’t laugh for long.

The time for snide pranks was over. Peony needed to be direct, to make her point clear. She needed to face Pyrrha in the flesh.

 

It was Ren who answered the purposeful knocks on JNPR’s door that evening. He faltered at the sight of their visitor, not knowing what to do – slam the door shut or calmly negotiate.

“I want to see Pyrrha,” Peony said, chin held high.

“Um…”

Inside the dorm, Pyrrha’s head snapped up at the mention of her name, and the voice that came with it. Jaune, too, whipped his eyes up from his essay, face whitening in dread, and tried to discreetly shuffle his desk chair further against the wall, hiding behind the door.

Peony tapped an insistent toe. “Now.”

Warily, Pyrrha crossed the room, refusing to make eye contact with the smaller girl. When she took Ren’s place in the entrance, Peony demanded that she come right into the corridor and close the door behind her as they needed to have a _private_ discussion. The champion did her bidding, though not without casting an uncertain glance at her concerned teammates. As soon as the door slotted closed, Peony’s vicious words leapt upon her like venomous little King Taijitus.

“You _did_ steal him, you bitch!”

Pyrrha blinked, words washing over her but not quite sinking in. “What?”

“I knew you were up to something! You were trying to steal him all along, I was right! First he dumps me on Valentine’s Day, then he did that today.”

“‘That’?”

Peony scowled in disgust. “You know what.”

Pyrrha did know, and the realisation that Peony of all people had seen made her squirm in shame. She supposed it did look rather bad, especially to the recently-dumped ex-girlfriend. 

“I’m sorry if it looked that way,” she answered, calmly. “But Jaune and I aren’t anything other than friends.” 

“Friends who are too close for my liking.”

At this, Pyrrha’s temper flared, and she shot the flower girl with a dark look. “Who are you to dictate how close one should be with another?”

“I don’t care about anyone else’s friendships, I care about Jaune. He can have friends, of course, but his involvement with you makes me feel…” 

She paused to search for the right word.

“Uncomfortable?” Pyrrha contributed.

“I suppose.” Peony wrinkled her delicate nose. “And it’s because you’ve barged your way into his space and he doesn’t know what to do. You’re a thief.”

“Excuse me?” The redhead’s voice heightened in pitch as her temper built. “I’m sorry if you can’t cope with mine and Jaune’s interactions, but I have not barged into anyone’s life. Jaune has never acted in a way to suggest it, moreover he seems to enjoy my company, and I’m not going to change for the romantic whims of one girl.”

There. She’d said it.

But Peony shot back, eyes glinting with ferocity, “This is no romantic whim, this is _love!”_

“A pretty twisted form of love if you can’t even let him go.”

After bottling herself up, Pyrrha had finally burst, her remark uncharacteristically stinging. Peony even flinched, but was quick to counter argue, “Then you obviously don’t know what it is to love. And that’s why you should leave Jaune alone.”

 _If only you knew…_ A subconscious hand drifted up to Pyrrha’s coronet, and she fiddled with the hanging bead from the chains, the hard smoothness of it a blessing to feel after her hands had finally thawed out. _She_ had been the one to let Jaune go after Weiss, encouraging him, even. _She_ had been the one behind his vast improvement in combat. _She_ was the one who would support him no matter what his goals were, be it to pursue another girl or winning the tournament. Peony was too selfish to do either of those things.

Magenta eyes narrowed at Pyrrha’s fiddling hand. “Why do you wear that all the time? It doesn’t suit _all_ of your clothing.” At this, she beckoned to Pyrrha’s casual tank top and jeans.

Conscious of her actions, the taller girl released her coronet. “It was my mother’s,” she said, betraying no emotion. 

Peony shrugged. “So?”

The girl’s severe lack of empathy took Pyrrha aback, and she added scathingly, “She died when I was ten.”

“Oh.” Something flickered across Peony’s features, something softer. But it was gone in seconds, and she was back to her disdainful self. “And what about your father?”

“He’s alive and well.” What did all this have to do with Jaune?

A half-hearted laugh spurted from the flower girl. “So you’re still better off than me. I lost both of my parents when I was very young, and I have virtually _nothing_ of theirs – not even any clear memories. Even my aunt hardly talks about them.”

 _Oh._ Pyrrha’s arms snaked across her chest, closing herself up at the revelation. “I’m sorry,” she said, and she truly was. Perhaps this was the tragic reason why Peony demanded love?

“I don’t want your apology,” she snapped. “That can’t change anything. You have something of your mother and you flaunt it around every day as if you’re God’s gift to Remnant.”

“And, what has my coronet got to do with Jaune, exactly?”

“It’s the fact that you flaunt _everything!_ That’s how you stole him! Even your battle gear is questionable!”

This was just getting beyond petty. And Pyrrha had seen some _very_ revealing combat outfits indeed. Still, she felt the need to justify herself. “I do not flaunt my body. I wear what I wear for combat to allow easier movement.”

“Sure, sure. And you have extra practice with him after classes, because you both use swords. You help him with schoolwork because he apparently can’t do it himself. See? You’re barging into his life!” 

_And what are you doing, oh glorious implement of perfection?_

“I hope you realise that I’m not scared of you at all, Pyrrha. I don’t care if you’re some celebrity.”

Green eyes hardened to emerald mirrors. “And I’m glad.” She was glad; bitchy girls such as this were part of the normal teenage life. But she was tired of fighting. Peony had lost, Jaune didn’t want to be near her, and she was held in contempt by many. There was little point in it all now. “Anything else?”

“Yeah! Stay away from him!”

As if it would improve her relationship with Jaune, whether Pyrrha stayed away or not.

The redhead opened the door, bluntly signalling that the discussion was over. “That’s a bit difficult when we’re on the same team.” And she left it at that. The door closed, cutting off Peony’s bratty derisions behind her. 

Nora and Ren cast her expectant looks. Jaune glanced over his shoulder.

“Did you hear any of that?” Pyrrha sighed as she trudged back to her bed and landed on it in an ungraceful flop.

“Most of it,” Ren answered. “It wasn’t that hard to hear.”

Pyrrha groaned into her pillow, and Jaune set down his pen to lean back against his chair and rub his eyes.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” he said. “You, stealing me and barging into my life? I am this close to swearing over that.”

“Go ahead, I won’t judge.”

So Jaune did. “It’s complete _bullshit!”_

Nora gasped and Ren bit his cheek at the term. Generally polite with his language, Jaune very rarely swore. They’d certainly never heard this particular word from his lips before.

Seemingly ashamed by what he’d said, Jaune mumbled an apology and went back to writing his essay, though he found that he couldn’t engage back into it. If Peony did something to Pyrrha again, he would take on the flower bitch in battle himself. He’d lose, of course, but he would fight her as if she were another ursa.

He’d do it for Pyrrha.


	16. Fire and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune finally gets the chance to be the hero he's wanted to be, despite it not being in the way he expected.

By Monday, the snow showed no sign of melting. In fact, more of it fell from the sky on Sunday night, and the icicles grew while the entire lake was a frozen slab. Weiss called it beautiful. Pyrrha agreed, but also called it horrible. Snow was enchanting, looked soft to the touch, but as soon as one stepped out in it, it would bite. 

But snow was the least of her worries. 

While everyone took a few minutes to stroll in the snow, Pyrrha arrived early in the locker rooms to change for combat class. She hadn’t yet tied up her hair, and left most of her belongings in her locker whilst she changed in a cubicle. She returned to arrange her hair in its flame-coloured ponytail, and reached inside the locker to retrieve her coronet.

Except that it wasn’t there.

Heart hammering, she rifled through her belongings, took all of the locker’s contents out, sorted through them, but her headpiece was nowhere to be seen.

The others turned up to find a distraught Pyrrha, scrutinizing everything she owned that had been sprawled out on the bench.

“What’s going on?” Jaune asked as he approached her.

Pyrrha wouldn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to see her red, stinging eyes. “My coronet’s gone.”

“I’m sure it’ll turn up,” Nora offered, blissfully skipping to her own locker.

“But I definitely left it in there.” Pyrrha beckoned to hers, and wiped her eyes. “I came back from changing, and it was gone.”

That was when Blake slowly came forward, nostrils flaring as she sniffed. She winced, and sneezed. “Perfume,” she reported.

Ruby raised an eyebrow. “Flowery?”

“Very.”

A hand flew to Pyrrha’s mouth as she reeled around, back to her friends. “I should have known,” she gasped. “Oh, but this isn’t _fair!”_

Weiss wheeled on Jaune, icy eyes flashing. “I thought you’d told that brat to stay away from us!”

“I did!” he protested. “But evidently she won’t listen!”

“But why would she steal Pyrrha’s crown-thingy?” said Ruby.

It was all clear to the champion now. It slotted into place perfectly. “We were talking last night. She asked me about it. I told her…”

Nora and Ren exchanged horrified looks. Jaune looked as though he’d lost the will to move.

Ruby prompted, “What do you mean?”

To stop herself from breaking down, Pyrrha vaguely recalled their conversation to them, but it was enough for them to get the gist. 

“So what you’re saying is,” said Weiss, “Peony “Can’t Let It Go” Bloom has stolen the coronet of your deceased mother because she’s jealous of everything about you.”

Pyrrha turned, facing them at last. “I guess.”

“Oh my God.” Yang’s words punctuated the air like daggers. “That is the lowest of the low things she has ever done.”

Ruby nodded, hand drifting to the hem of her cape. She imagined if someone stole something of her own late mother’s. She didn’t want to imagine it.

“Maybe,” said Jaune calmly, though his voice wavered with ire, “we should just look around to see if she’s hidden it.”

Much like when Jaune’s sweater ‘disappeared’, both teams swept through the room, examining each object, probing into every corner. Fifteen minutes later, the coronet remained missing. More students filed in to change, and the search was called off. When Peony sashayed in, gym bag at her arm, Weiss minced up to her, scowling.

“Where is it?” she demanded.

Peony blinked. “Where is what?”

“Pyrrha’s coronet.”

“What coronet?”

Yang stepped in. “You know very well. That thing she always wears around her head.”

“That once belonged to her mother,” Weiss added, hoping to force Peony to confess out of shame.

But it didn’t work. Peony innocently fluttered her long eyelashes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The two girls proceeded to interrogate her for a further five minutes, until Poppy got involved and told them to back off or she’d tell Professor Goodwitch that they were bothering her teammates again. Weiss and Yang returned to their changing group, faces contorted with anger and frustration. Peony smirked at their backs.

The loss of her precious headpiece affected Pyrrha to the point where she refused to fight in class later on. Her head felt naked without it, but the feeling that that piece of her mother was gone cost her the will to fight. She feigned illness when Professor Goodwitch called her to battle, and remained downcast for the rest of the day. When CRDL approached them during lunch, demanding a rematch of Saturday’s snowball fight, Pyrrha announced that she would not take part. She was in no mood to fight in any sort of fashion, and the snow made it even less appealing. She stubbornly remained with her decision, no matter how her friends tried to persuade her. Even Jaune’s attempts were in vain.

“Come on,” he urged back in their dorm after classes. Pyrrha sat at her desk, trying to get on with some assigned readings. Her teammates were geared up in their winter clothes while she remained in her uniform. Jaune gave her ponytail a playful tug. “The fight will take your mind off it.”

“No it won’t.”

“And you’ll warm up once you start moving.”

“No I won’t.”

“And you can kick some CRDL butt. Again.”

“Not in the mood.”

Jaune left it at that. Defeated, he clapped her shoulder in a goodbye gesture, and left the room with others.

Alone, Pyrrha leaned back in her chair to stair up at the ceiling. _It’s gone. It’s gone. Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry!_ A memory flashed through her mind, and she quickly shook it away, not wanting to dwell on it. It was the memory of when her father told her that her mother wouldn’t be coming home from her mission. That she would be placed in the ground instead. 

She swiped frustrated tears away. Now wasn’t a good time to replay it. Instead another memory started. Her seventeenth birthday, when her father presented her with the coronet. “It’ll fit you now,” he said. And it did fit. It fit her as perfectly as it had fitted her mother. “You look so much like her,” her father breathed when she wore it for the first time. “Except for the hair.”

With a shaky sigh, Pyrrha left her chair to cross over to the window, arms hugging her torso. Deep grey clouds grimaced overhead, threatening another wintery onslaught. The snow looked like fluffy clouds, tempting to lie in, but disguised a chilling bite. As she scanned the scenery, a pink blemish swaggered across the perfect, smooth white. Down on the snowy ground, Peony gazed up at her, sneering. Her hand held something gold and glinting. Pyrrha gasped.

_Her coronet!_

Peony must have seen the shock on her enemy’s features, as her smirk broadened and she skipped smugly away. Before she had time to think, Pyrrha bolted out of the room. She all but leapt down the stairs and burst out into the snow – gasping again as the cold struck her. In her rush she hadn’t even put a coat on.

But there was no time to go back, Peony had broken into a run, and Pyrrha at least had her shoes on, and the chase would soon warm her up. So she ran.

The flower girl was surprisingly nimble, weaving through buildings, sprinting the fastest Pyrrha had ever seen her. The champion, meanwhile, was more sluggish than she would have liked. Despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her toes were still unbearably cold to the point where she had to run almost flat-footed in fear of them breaking off.

Neither were sure how long the chase had ensued by the time Peony reached the cliff. She didn’t even hesitate before she slid down the railings of the steps, zigzagging down to the lake. Pyrrha followed, though down the steps as she wasn’t sure she had the best balance right now. As soon as she began cascading down, she found that that was just as bad an option. Her legs burned, the cold made her feet as heavy as solid blocks of ice. She had to catch the railing just to stop herself from tumbling down.

Soon, Peony reached the bottom of the cliff, at the snowy shore of the frozen lake. She took a moment to glance up at the struggling and cold Pyrrha zigzagging after her, before bolting onwards. _She’s running to Vale?_ But she didn’t get very far.

The snow covered both the shore and parts of the lake, so it was difficult to see where the ice and the ground met. Guideless, Peony crunched across the snow, before steeping into a thinner patch and slipping across the ice. She fell forward, and the coronet flew from her grip. It landed some distance away, and rolled and skidded even farther into the lake. When it came to a stop, it was hopelessly far away, a good few metres or so.

Flushed scarlet, Peony slowly picked herself up. She stared at the coronet on the lake, then at Pyrrha, eyes wide with guilt. Her nemesis had made it to the bottom, white as the snow save for her reddened nose and ears from the cold as she too stared at the lost headpiece. Her entire insides had frozen, numbed as her hands and feet. Now that she’d stopped moving, she became conscious of the pain. But that couldn’t outmatch the grief for her lost treasure.

Guilt wasn’t something Peony was used to. Normally, she saw herself as a blameless being. But now it overwhelmed her. She had been the one to steal the headpiece, to run with it, to trip, to drop it. She could blame Pyrrha for enticing her to do so, but there were other ways to spite her. She could have just hidden the coronet for a start. But no, there it was, on the frozen lake far from the shore, no hope of getting it back. When the ice melted, the coronet would sink into the water and lie on the lake bed like treasure from a shipwreck. And it was all her fault.

She didn’t know what to do, so she came with the next best thing.

She ran.

Pyrrha didn’t stop her, even as she breezed past to scramble back up the steps. The champion didn’t have the will to face the flower anymore. _Let her run. Let her cower._ But she, Pyrrha Nikos, would not stand idly by and wait for her mother’s treasure to slip under the ice come next week. _A Nikos is brave. A Nikos never cowers._ But a Nikos was wise and Pyrrha had her mother’s blood too – the blood of the Kreon family. _A Kreon does what he needs to do no matter what the consequence._ That had cost her mother her life eventually, but Pyrrha needed to do what she needed to do just to get that piece of her back.

One numb foot came forward, into the snow. Then the other, and the other. All she met at first was snow, but soon, her soles found hard ice. It was risky, of course, but all she needed to do was get close enough to use her Semblance. If she was careful, she’d be fine. 

Each step was a colossal effort. Her entire body trembled with cold, and she kept her hands clasped to her chest in some failed effort to conserve heat. Aura could protect against her fingers from dropping off like icicles, but it did nothing as regards temperature. 

The discarded coronet slowly grew bigger with each painful step. The numbness forced her to walk flatfooted, which helped as it prevented her from slipping. The ice remained firm for now, but it was impossible to tell its thickness. When she was a few metres from the shore, she stretched out one trembling hand, and unleashed her Semblance. Her hand omitted its tell-tale black glow, and the headpiece too glowed faintly in response as her Semblance reached it, but it only moved a couple of inches. She wasn’t close enough. Cursing under her breath, Pyrrha took a few more slow steps and tried again. The coronet came a little closer, but her Semblance soon wore off as she was still too far away. Or too cold, perhaps that was effecting it? She allowed herself a couple more steps, and then froze.

An ominous, thundering sound rumbled beneath her, in the ice. For the first time in ages, Pyrrha was terrified. Desperately, she flung out a glowing hand, and almost fell back in surprise as her precious treasure flew into her grip. She hugged it tightly, gasping in joy, then in fear as she noticed the gaping crack, slithering like a long, grey claw, right between her feet.

She needed to get off the ice. Now.

 

The snowball rematch had been interesting. Team CRDL recruited an Atlesian team who used a makeshift _catapult_ to launch the projectiles. Meanwhile, RWBY and JNPR needed a replacement for Pyrrha, so the whole of team SSSN volunteered.

“We want to collectively kick some CRDL ass,” had been Sun’s words, his teammates nodding in agreement.

As it was eight against eleven, the fight didn’t last very long. Ruby once again sprayed snow with her Semblance to blind them, Nora very nearly knocked one Atlas boy out, Yang rolled a snow boulder down the steps to career into the opposition, burying at least two. This time in the battle, Jaune defended against attacks with Sun, the latter simply punching and kicking the incoming bullets into powdery puffs. Jaune had brought Croeca Mors with him, and chopped through the snowballs and bounced them off his shield, proving to all his starkly improved dexterity. Now that it was all over, the three teams claiming victory, he had opted to return straight to the dorms to check on Pyrrha.

He was surprised to find their dorm empty when he arrived there, but didn’t think much of it. She’d probably just gone to the bathroom or something. Stretching his worked muscles, he strolled over to the window and planted both hands on the low bookcase to gaze at the scenery. It had been a long time since Vale had seen snow, at least three years. He and some of his sisters went tobogganing, himself in a sled which he doubted was big enough for him now. He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. At fourteen Pyrrha won her first tournament while he, a small and skinny boy, couldn’t even pick up a sword. A few growth spurts, work outs and sparring sessions with Pyrrha later, he could chop incoming snowballs into neat halves.

As he chortled with his thoughts, a movement caught his eye, snapping him out of it. In the gap between two dorm blocks in front of him was a pink blur. Shortly after followed a taller shape, with long, streaking red hair.

Jaune’s stomach flipped. That looked like Pyrrha, still in her uniform… without a coat on! _What the hell is she doing?_ He bolted back out of the dorm and back out into the snowy outdoors. He continued running in the direction he’d seen his friend go. But run as he might, she was nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t identify the many footprints, and each time he followed a pair that had long enough strides to resemble running, they led him round and round the blocks on a wild goose chase. But these prints were his only lead, and he eventually found a pair away from the others, leading on a path of their own. Every so often they collided with a smaller pair, which were also widely-spaced, indicating another running person. _Score!_ He ran by them, following them right along the stretch that led to the cliffs. Doubt crept into him; perhaps these were merely the prints of a couple of students trying to reach an airship into the city in time? None the less, he carried on, the port and the cliff edge drawing closer. He reached the port, and almost halted as a figure emerged from the steps in the cliffs.

The ruffled pink coat and brown hair painted the unmistakeably features of Peony Bloom, bringing Jaune to stop in his tracks, groaning as to what this encounter would be like, considering that they hadn’t spoken since their break up. Peony managed a few paces, eyes fixed on the ground at first then stopping herself as she noticed him. She gazed at him, wide-eyed and pale-faced. Her foggy breath swirled with each pant. Jaune returned the stare, trying to decipher what expression she was wearing. It wasn’t one he’d seen before.

He didn’t like her, but decided to be civil. His voice was cool, but not completely unfriendly, “Are you alright?”

The girl’s bottom lip trembled, and she stared back down at the ground. Her cheeks now flushed – _with shame, perhaps?_ “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “It was an accident.”

Jaune’s heart caught in his throat as a sense of foreboding washed over him. He swept past her and peered over the cliff. He nearly screamed at what he saw.

Pyrrha, his best friend and the girl he loved above all others, stood on the frozen lake. She was well away from the shore, and moving further away from it towards some object lying even further away.

Peony joined him, and a hand flew over her mouth! “What the hell is she doing there?” she squealed through it. “She’ll fall in and I’ll be a _murderer!”_

Temper flared, Jaune grabbed her by the shoulders and glared into her eyes. “What did you do?” he demanded harshly.

“It was an accident!” Peony repeated, tears welling in her eyes. “I took her headpiece, just to have her chase after it. I tripped and it landed on the _iiiiiice!”_ Sobs overwhelmed her, and she shrugged herself out of his grip to flee back towards the school.

“RUNNING AWAY WON’T SOLVE ANYTHING!” Jaune yelled at her retreating back, receiving no response. In anger, he gave her the finger, and leapt down the winding steps. He slipped and stumbled but refused to stop or let any pain get the better of him until he reached the bottom. By now Pyrrha had stopped moving and stood frozen as the ice. Jaune called out to her, voice cracking, and she craned her neck over her shoulder.

Her heart swelled with joy at the sight of her friend waving to her frantically on the shoreline. Very, very slowly, she turned, avoiding stepping on the gaping crack. She faced Jaune now, so far away, but she could see his face contorted with worry.

“GET OFF THE ICE!” he shouted, voice thundering off the cliffs and around the lake.

“I can’t,” Pyrrha tried to shout back, but it came out as a pathetic squeal. The cold seemed to have frosted her vocal chords as well. “The ice is cracking.”

 _“Please,_ Pyrrha!” Jaune cried back. “Just take a few baby steps. You’ll make it, you’ll be fine.”

He made it sound so easy, but his words were enough to rekindle her courage and take one small step. Then another, and another. She held the coronet closer to her, hoping her mother’s spirit might seep into her during this desperate time. How could it feel so warm from her body heat while she felt so cold? With Jaune’s encouraging words guiding her, she crept closer to land, a small smile lighting up her face as she believed that everything really would be fine.

And then the ice gave way.

Her right foot fell through first, followed by her leg and then the rest of her body. Freezing water embraced her, and she screamed as she tried to thrash out of it. One hand held her headpiece while the other clung onto the ice, only to slip off again. The shock and the water numbed her muscles, her limbs felt heavier than they ever had done. She was going to die. Not in the heat of battle, but a pathetic accidental drowning.

As soon as her body plunged through the ice, Jaune ran out onto the lake himself, screaming her name. As a last minute thought, he opened his shield, slotting the sword in his belt, and laid himself on the shield and pushed with his feet to slide along the unstable ice and prevent any further cracks. He made it to the gaping hole where Pyrrha tried in vain to cling onto the ice. She gasped and coughed, her head disappearing under the water more times than Jaune would have liked. At first, he tried to pull her out by her free hand, but that only made him slide towards her as she had nothing to push herself up against. He got off his shield and laid on his belly, cold seeping through his coat. He pulled her again as she fought to keep her head above the water, and his own slab of ice separated itself from the rest of the lake. The block teetered dangerously into the water submersing his front. He took out his sword and stabbed it into a thick-looking slab beside him, and used it as a handle to help pull Pyrrha out. He slipped and slid, fell right into the water and gasped in shock of how cold it was. Colder than the ice itself, it seemed. How was that possible?

Pyrrha’s own thrashes grew weaker, and he clung onto her body, kicking his legs out beneath him to tread water. He grasped his sword, and hauled them both out. His arm burned as he pulled, his legs were too heavy to move properly, Pyrrha was limp in his grasp. He managed to pull most of their bodies onto the floating ice, and hooked one leg up to roll himself completely out of water. He pulled his motionless friend out, and laid her on his open shield. There was no time to check her condition. He grabbed his sword and on his hands and knees, pushed Pyrrha back to the shore. Ice cracked around them as they went, he fell back in a couple of times, though thankfully into shallower water. They finally made it to snow and solid land, where he gathered her into his arms to check if she was alright.

She was breathing, coughing feebly, and her eyes managed to peel open to peer up at him. She tried to move her mouth, but every muscle was frozen. She wanted to thank him, to smile, but she couldn’t. Her coronet remained with her, hooked round one arm during the ordeal, and she couldn’t even reach round to touch it with her fingers. Even more frightening, she couldn’t _shiver._

Trembling himself, a sopping wet Jaune managed to stand up, collapsing his shield and returning it to his belt along with the sword, and lifted her drenched body off the snow. “W-we h-ha-ave to g-g-get insid-d-de,” he stammered. Somehow, his heavy legs carried them both back up the steps, which he attributed to his Aura healing his frozen muscles. _Shame I can’t transfer it onto her._ He made it up the steps and continued along the stretch, quickening his pace but still trembling furiously. He hugged Pyrrha closer to him, hoping that his body would warm her, but all she could feel was the icy water trapped in his coat. She was still too cold to shiver, and her hands were a horrible shade of blue. He marched on, his feet protesting painfully. They encountered no one as they crossed to the dorm block, or even as he climbed the stairs. The warmth of the indoors stirred him on, but seemed to have little effect on Pyrrha. He kicked the door open to their dorm, and laid her on the floor.

She tried again to speak. “Th-th-tha…”

He shook his head, stripping himself of his coat and gloves and tossing them aside. “Thank m-me later. F-first w-we need to get you w-w-warmed up.” His mind flashed back to Saturday’s snowball fight, when he was talking to her about exchanging body heat. His chest tightened as it dawned on him that that was exactly what he needed to do. But Pyrrha’s wellbeing had to go before dignity.

“P-Pyrrha,” he said, droplets from his hair and face dripping onto her. He wiped them away, and gently took the coronet to lay it on Pyrrha’s bed. “Remember w-what I said a-ab-bout body heat a c-couple days ago?”

With some effort, she nodded, her stomach knotting. She knew where this was going, and fear mixed with bliss at the thought. 

Jaune rested one cold, quivering finger on the button of her blazer. “I am so sorry.” The button was undone and he slipped the blazer over her shoulders. She tried to help him, but her limbs were like lead. Many more apologies ensued as Jaune removed her shoes, tights and vest, and he his shoes, socks and shirt. He tried not to think about the fact that he could see her bra through the drenched blouse as he grabbed the covers from his bed and wrapped them around them both, hugging Pyrrha to his bare chest. He rubbed his hands vehemently against her back and legs, trying to spark more warmth into her. Though her hands were frozen, he didn’t feel them as they rested on his chest. He was almost as cold as she was, and realised that in that case, this wasn’t going to work.

“We n-need to get s-somewhere warm-m-mer,” he muttered, and wrestled out of the covers. An idea sparked in his brain, and he picked Pyrrha up again to take her back out of the dorm. He scooted to the showers, praying that they didn’t encounter anyone along the way. The sight of him, half-naked, carrying a girl to the showers was one that would easily stir assumptions. Thankfully, they met no one, and the showers were deserted too. He locked them in a cubicle, set Pyrrha down on the ground and ran warm water. He knelt beside her, blushing as he imparted the next words of wisdom, “W-when you fall through i-ice, y-y-you’re meant t-to take all your cl-clothes off-ff.”

Pyrrha’s eyes widened in alarm. She wasn’t ready for _that_ at all!

Jaune quickly reassured her, “B-but I d-didn’t think y-you’d want that s-s-so i-it would be b-best to keep y-your u-underwear on. I m-mean, your shirt and s-skirt h-have cold w-water trapped i-in them too an-and you need-d to feel-l-l the w-warm water qu-quicker.”

Biting her lip, she managed a small nod and allowed him to slide her blouse off her shoulders, then skirt down her legs. Now that he was seeing her in just her underwear, Jaune quickly decided that he would keep his jeans on. A purple bra securely holding her breasts in place, and matching panties round her curving hips, it was the closest he’d gotten to seeing a naked girl. Except Peony, but that had been different. As much as it shamed him, he had wondered what Pyrrha looked like beneath her clothes, and this was it. Smooth skin, faint abs, the odd scar from her early training days. He had planned to remove his jeans so they’d be equal, but the fact that he was growing quite stiff made him abandon this plan. The sight of an erection straining against his boxers would freak her out.

Trying not to look too much, he hoisted her onto her feet, heart hammering as his body made contact with bare skin, and guided her under the stream of water. There was no steam, indicating how cold the water really was, but to them, it was the warmest thing they’d felt in ages. Jaune held her close, knowing her legs were probably too weak to support her properly, and he rested his chin on her head, rubbing her back. He smiled at the wall as he felt her arms slip round his waist, and then, finally, she shivered. The shaking was quite violent at first, as if her defrosting muscles didn’t know what to make of their regained movement. Jaune loosened his grip to let her quake, and let her strengthening legs support her again.

Then, for the first time since she fell through the ice, Pyrrha spoke. “C-c-could you t-turn the h-h-heat up, p-please?”

Jaune obliged, admitting that he too was regaining his usual sense of feeling and that the water was starting to feel very cold. Warmer liquid gushed down on them, and she reached up to undo her ponytail. Drenched hair slapped against her back, and warm water now coursed through it, heating her back up in the process. She nuzzled her head in the crook of Jaune’s shoulder, grinning. This was a moment she’d often dreamt about, particularly during her afterglows in the shower. In her mind’s eye, she would reach up to kiss him, he would kiss back and unhook her bra, and a round of passionate love making would ensue. But he was here, like this, holding her, like this, to warm them both up. It had been to save her life, and now that she could speak, she could now say what she’d been longing to say.

“Thank you.”

Jaune gave her a gentle squeeze. “Any time.” And then he added, “I am really sorry though. I know it’s weird, someone taking your clothes off and hugging you in the shower but I promise this is what you’re meant to do. I’d rather have an embarrassing moment than you catch hypothermia or whatever.”

“Jaune, it’s _fine,”_ Pyrrha’s reassuring tones soothed him. She proved it by pulling him even closer, and she frowned. Something hard was pushing against her lower torso, near her crotch.

Sensing the closeness of his erection to her body, Jaune pulled back, smiling awkwardly down at her. “I think we’re ready to go now.” 

The shower was deactivated, Pyrrha’s clothes gathered, and the dripping, near-naked teenagers ran back to their dorm in an attempt to hide away from curious eyes. Knowing that she wasn’t out of the woods yet, Jaune instructed that they quickly dry off and change into fresh clothes. They did so, rubbing themselves down with towels, and hiding under their bedcovers when they needed to slip off their underwear. A few minutes later, they were in their pyjamas, curled together in Pyrrha’s bed while Jaune’s covers laid in a damp mess on his own. He had saved her from hypothermia, but not a cold. She sounded bunged up and her voice was raspy as her throat hurt.

“It could be worse,” she croaked. “I could have drowned.”

“True.”

She smiled up at him. “You’re a _hero.”_

Jaune silenced at the thought. He had dreamt about being a hero, but that was in the warrior sense. Saving a girl from an icy lake sounded so simple, yet it had been anything but. And he’d needed his weapon for that too.

“Just doing what I had to do,” he replied, returning the grin.

Pyrrha managed to sit up, linking her arm with his. “I wish I could thank you properly. Give you something in return.”

“It’s fine, I mean, you do a lot for me anyway. Consider this a thank you for helping me. Wait, no, that doesn’t mean I’d just leave you there if you _weren’t_ helping me, I’d help you regardless. So this is a sort-of thank you? Er…”

Feeling bold, Pyrrha cut him off with a simple, chaste kiss on the cheek. “There,” she said, and settled back down in bed, arms looped around him. 

He reached up to stroke where she’d kissed him, his skin tingling. “That… that was actually very nice.”

Pyrrha giggled, rather flirtatiously. “I’d kiss you on the lips if I didn’t have a cold.” As soon as she said the words, she froze, wanting to snatch them back before they reached his ears. But it was too late, and he was staring at her now, blushing as much as her.

“I mean,” she said, pulling away from him, “that was a joke.” She bunched the covers up to her chin and hugged her knees. “It came out a lot more creepily than I thought it would.”

Jaune’s heart sank. He had been ready to say “Go for it” had she not said that. In an effort to show that he wasn’t creeped out, he teased, “Aw, that’s a shame. I’d love a bit of the common cold right now.”

 _“Jaune!”_ Pyrrha buried her face in her knees, trying to hide her shame and smile. “This isn’t helping!”

Playfully, he pinched her waist, and she jumped and instinctively tried to hit him, only to be blocked by his forearm. She nodded approvingly at the move. “You’ve learnt well.”

Jaune shrugged. “Well, if anyone should be giving out thank you kisses, it should be me.” Before he could think about it, he cupped her face to give her cheek a swift peck. “Now we’re even.”

Pyrrha’s whole cheek glowed at the feeling of his lips. She stroked it. One day they would kiss on the mouth. And it wouldn’t be awkward. _One day._

“So,” said Jaune, deciding to shift the topic away from the discomfort in the air. “Wanna read some _X-Ray and Vav_ with me?”

 

______________________________________________________________________

I'd like to thank everyone for all the support so far. Especially the constructive criticism, which I took on board for this chapter. Seriously, this would have gone a lot differently if you hadn't said anything (you know who you are), or if ignored you but I'm not an idiot like that. So, yeah. Thanks guys!  
I'll thank you properly with more stuff and perhaps things you've all been waiting for.............  
;)


	17. Impart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequence of falling into a frozen lake is afflicted on Pyrrha, Peony seeks an ego boost while the boys give Jaune a pep talk.

It was a long night for Pyrrha.

She had suffered from the odd mild cold before, but the one that afflicted her now was ridiculous. Her sinuses ached and the inside of her nose felt heavy with mucus, making it frustratingly impossible to breathe that way. Worst of all was the sore throat. It screamed when she swallowed, a hard enough action anyway, and even when it wasn’t moving it hurt. Several times she woke up in the night, sniffing or coughing or groaning, unable to drift back off to sleep.

Normally one of the early risers of the group, the following morning she was still huddled under the covers as Nora forced Ren awake. She was barely able to open her eyes when Jaune crouched by her bedside and squeezed her hand.

“Are you alright?” he asked, a note of genuine concern in his voice. Pyrrha looked terrible, he thought. Bags hung under her eyes and her skin was so pale it reflected the red bed covers.

The response he received was a fatigued grunt, and when she tried to speak her throat constricted to the point where her vocals were useless. Her voice rasped out as a cross between a croak and a squeak, “What time is it?”

Jaune’s eyebrows raised at her lost voice. “Nearly half eight. Breakfast time.”

“I don’t want breakfast.” Pyrrha’s stomach churned at the very thought of food.

Jaune gritted his teeth. The health-conscious champion was never one to skip a meal, especially breakfast. If her voice wasn’t anything to go by, then this statement was a sure indicator of how unwell she was. 

“You should eat something,” he advised gently. “It doesn’t have to be a lot.”

Pyrrha shook her head against the pillow. “No thank you. Get yourselves breakfast and I’ll use the time to sleep a little more.”

Her leader relented, and the three left. Five minutes later, he was back after wolfing down a bowl of cereal, and found a still bedbound Pyrrha.

“How are you feeling?” he murmured, and placed a hand on her whitened forehead. He almost recoiled it in shock. Her skin burned like hot coals, yet the covers were still tightly wrapped round her body to her ears. Upon further inspection, her forehead glistened with tiny beads of sweat, but her shoulders shivered.

Pyrrha peeled one eye open. “Should I get up now?”

“No.”

The decisiveness of Jaune’s voice made her raise her head off the pillow in curiosity. The covers slipped to her shoulder, and he pulled them back up.

“You’re not going to class today,” he said.

“What?” She gripped the bed sheets in worry. “But I can’t miss anything!”

“Listen to yourself, Pyrrha! You’ve lost your voice, you don’t sound well, you don’t _look_ well. Do you feel hot or cold?”

She frowned as she thought about it. “Both, I guess…” She’d never felt anything like it. She shivered and sweated simultaneously. One moment she was as cold as the water that had trapped her yesterday, the next a wave of excruciating heat washed over her. She wanted to take all her clothes off and at the same time don a thick sweater.

Jaune nodded in knowing. “You have a fever, and there’s no way you’re fit enough for class. And you need to see the nurse, you might need medicine or something.”

Pyrrha hoped that she wouldn’t. Illness wasn’t something she was used to, and she’d never required medicine before. Her peak fitness allowed her to recover quickly from most of the ailments she had ever had. But when the school nurse examined her a few minutes after Jaune contacted her via scroll, the verdict was grim.

“You’re very sick, Miss Nikos,” the plump woman said. Her frame, uniform and large eyes gave her a maternal look, but the tight-lipped frown she often wore was anything but. Ironically, her name was Nurse Hope, though had earned the clandestine nickname from many students of ‘Nurse Hopeless’. Despite her blunt, and often harsh, demeanour, she did her job of diagnosing and prescribing well.

She swiped the thermometer from Pyrrha’s mouth, and shook her head at after examining it. “You have a high temperature and a fever. And you have an infection in your throat. What on Remnant have you been doing? It’s not like we have an epidemic.”

Pyrrha shrugged. “Had an accident outside.”

“Too long in the snow without a coat on because you felt too hot, I’m guessing.”

Pyrrha let her have that, and Nurse Hope shook her head again with an exasperated sigh. “I knew Ozpin shouldn’t have let you kids out in this weather.”

Grumblings aside, she praised Jaune for summoning her as “not even perfect physical health will help Miss Nikos out of this one.” She prescribed a liquid antibiotic and pills with a very long scientific-sounding name. Each had to be taken at specific times, which only confused both teens. An hour before eating, or after eating, or on an empty stomach, or after two cups of water… In the end, Nurse Hope wrote down everything in detail, ordered Pyrrha to rest for a couple of days, and by no means to venture out of bed unless she absolutely needed to. After reminding Jaune that, as team leader, it was his responsibility to look after the sick trainee huntress, the nurse departed.

“Well…” The boy’s eyes glossed over the list of instructions he had been given. “Good thing I got the nurse, huh?”

Pyrrha grunted in agreement, and she eyed the two small containers on her bed with mistrust. In their bottle, the pills were a suspicious bright blue and looked rather plastic. The antibiotic was obscured in its dark glass bottle, hiding the contents. She doubted either would taste very nice. And how could she stay bedridden for so long? Though she didn’t feel like it now, later she would be restless with the need to do something. And then there was all the work she would miss. Weiss and Ren would be the most reliable people to call upon for that, but it wasn’t the same as actually being in class.

Damn that Peony. This was literally all her fault. At least the headpiece was safely under her bed. If it had been lost beneath the ice she would probably dive right into the lake to retrieve it, regardless of her illness.

Though she had been dubious of Nurse Hope’s advice, she soon became grateful for it. Her body was weak and all she wanted to do was sleep. Her friends visited between classes, Jaune especially. He had made the medicine prescribing his firm responsibility, having copied the list of times for himself and coming to the dorm whenever necessary, even if it meant faking a bathroom break in the middle of class. The reason why he refused to let Pyrrha do it herself was because she slept so much, and would need waking when it was time to take the medicine or food an hour beforehand. Pyrrha’s appetite remained stubborn, though she did manage a piece of toast an hour before the pills were due, and the only time she drank was the water with which she swallowed them, or after taking the antibiotic. She had been right with her guess: the antibiotic tasted vile. A strong, almost stinging chemical taste that burned on her tongue her throat and right up to her nose, and it came with a very bitter aftertaste.

The third or fourth time she was administered it, Jaune chuckled at her disgusted grimace. 

“You pull some really weird faces when you have that.” They were also quite cute, he thought. Just like how she flushed with embarrassment now. 

Since Jaune devoured his lunch in under five minutes to visit his sick friend, he wasn’t with the others in the dining hall when Peony delivered her apology.

Or at least, an indirect apology.

Poppy minced towards their table, shoulders back and chin up, exerting an air of confidence and inexorability. The looks she received from the team-and-a-half were those of surprise, suspicion and challenging. 

“I have come,” said the leader of team POPI, “to apologise on behalf of Peony.”

Weiss narrowed her eyes. “Couldn’t she come here and do that herself?”

“No. She’s too…ashamed, shall we say. She says sorry for being the cause of what happened yesterday.”

The six exchanged mixed glances. They knew about yesterday’s events – apart from the intimacy in the shower – and consequently had no respect for Peony at all. The girl couldn’t even face them herself. However, they had heard all about Jaune rescuing Pyrrha from the ice, and as a result they were somewhat pleased that the incident came to pass. Ruby was particularly ecstatic – they were a step closer to being a couple.

“She’s a coward,” Yang said bluntly. “And it’s Pyrrha she should be apologising to.”

Poppy shrugged. “Well, tell Pyrrha that she is sorry for what happened yesterday.”

“And what about everything else?”

“Everything that happened prior to yesterday’s events is not included in the apology. She feels they are justified.”

Fist clenched, Yang leapt up to snap back, but Blake held her back, forcing her to sit back down.

“This is the best we’ll get out of any of them,” the faunus said. “Maybe now that she almost killed someone, all this can stop?”

“About that.” Poppy’s voice was cool and void of emotion. “Peony doesn’t accept responsibility for Pyrrha going on the ice. That was done out of her own accord.”

Yang tried to leap up again, ready to demand that Peony brought her smug self here so she could punch the perfume out of her. As Blake and Weiss tried to hold her down, Ruby whirled on her rival.

“Fine, whatever. We’ll tell Pyrrha that. Now, unless you want my wild sister after you, run.”

Poppy didn’t run, but returned to her table just as composed as when she left. Peony wasn’t even in the dining hall. She didn’t venture out of their dorm at all unless it was for classes, and even then she was far quieter than usual. She kept her head bowed, refusing to look at anyone or anything. Pyrrha may have chosen to go on the ice, but there would have been no need to choose had not Peony done something else with that blasted coronet.

She regretted running with it, but she didn’t regret stealing it in the first place.

The flower girl heard from other sources that Pyrrha was ill, and that Jaune was looking after her. This made her chest clench with envy and anguish. By exacting her revenge on the champion, she had brought the two even closer together. She had made herself lose. There was no way Jaune would come back to her now. A second day of the pair’s absence came and went, and Peony debated going to see Pyrrha herself and apologising in the flesh to prove that she was the bigger person. But then she remembered that Pyrrha was ill and practically radiated germs, so she decided against it. And in class, Jaune never looked at her, refused to go near her. All hope was lost, thanks to what she had believed to be a brilliant idea.

She could turn to her teammates, but what solace could they offer? They couldn’t provide her with the ego boost she needed. No, only one person could do that.

Her aunt.

 

The balcony where it all started loomed overhead, its elaborate iron railings swooping and swirling as elegantly as her own handwriting. She remembered when that balloon had tangled itself there, how she had fallen when she tried to retrieve it, and landed in the arms of Jaune Arc, her knight in shining armour. Perhaps he still could be? Her aunt could help her decide that.

After knocking, the door was almost immediately opened by a short woman in a long, flowing, ridiculously floral-splattered skirt. Magenta eyes creased at the corners as her rouged lips smiled, and she held out her arms to offer a hug.

“Peony! My darling, come here!”

“Auntie Prim!” She threw herself into the older woman’s arms, and after a long, loving embrace, she was led inside. Aunt Primrose told her to sit herself down in the lounge while she boiled the kettle. The room in question drew a much-missed smile from Peony. Pink sofa, pink armchairs, pink walls, pink rug, pink everything. All was how she’d left it those weeks ago. She sank into a chair, inhaling the thick scent of fresh flowers displayed in vases along the fireplace and coffee table.

Her aunt entered the room carrying a tea tray ladled with most her china set. She placed it on the coffee table, and herbal tea was poured from the pink, rosy teapot into two blossomed cups, each equipped with their own saucer.

“Now then,” Aunt Primrose said as they sipped their drinks. “Tell me what’s new in your life.”

Peony got straight to the point. She told her about Jaune, and everything that had happened to do with him. She admitted some of her misdeeds, but justified them with the wrongdoings of everyone else. Lastly she addressed the episode with the coronet, and by the time she finished, sobs threatened to overwhelm her. Aunt Primrose abandoned her tea to scoop her niece in her arms, cooing her in cooing her with soothing tones.

“Oh, my poor little flower,” she sighed. “You’ve been through so much lately. All for the love of one boy.”

Peony’s tears soaked into her aunt’s cardigan. “I don’t know what to _dooooo!_ Should I fight back - again?”

Aunt Primrose pulled back to gaze into her eyes, magenta on magenta. “How much do you love this young man?”

Peony sniffed. “A lot.”

Rouged lips curved in a rueful smile. “So much so that you kept him by your side via all means possible in the hopes that eventually he would feel the same for you. You’re a fighter alright, petal.”

Peony nodded with a sob. “I fought against his friends to have him, I fought Pyrrha, I fought _him._ I’ve done so much fighting, but then I screwed up.”

“I’ll admit,” Primrose’s smile faded, “the coronet idea wasn’t your finest hour. For one, it was a bit too sentimental an object to take, and for another, it could have ended so much worse. Granted, the Nikos girl shouldn’t have gone on the ice – but neither should you.”

“I know.”

“That said,” the woman went on, “you have genuine feelings for this boy. And you deserve him. His friends are just jealous he’d devote all his attention on someone as wonderful as you – that’s why they’ve poisoned his mind against you.”

Ego perking back up, Peony’s features elevated into a smile. “Really?”

Sadly, though neither could see it, the two were as bad as each other. Primrose thought the world of her niece, which in turn made Peony think the world of herself.

Aunt Primrose smiled back. “Really. So fight, my flower. Love is worth fighting for. But be subtle, and he’ll soon see. And as for that Pyrrha girl, whether they share a mutual attraction or not, you’ll just have to best her in everything. Who cares if she’s won a few tournaments? You’re a beautiful girl, inside and out. You’re smaller than her too – and men like small women.” She winked. “Makes them look taller, you see.”

Peony giggled, delight drying up her tears. Yes, she did have things Pyrrha could never hope to have. And she would fight. But subtly, and she would prove to Jaune just how amazing she was and what he was missing out on. Then he would love her.

Reaching for a handkerchief, Primrose gently swabbed away the tears glistening on her niece’s cheeks. “Now then, let’s finish our tea, and I can give you an entire list as to how to win your Jaune back.”

 

“OK, Ruby. Remind me what I’m doing again.”

The caped girl rolled her eyes at her fellow leader. Whenever Jaune got nervous, he became more forgetful. How was he going to cope during finals week?

“You’re going to talk with Ren, Sun and Neptune about Pyrrha.”

The boy gulped. “I need a few more pointers than that. How? What should I say?”

“Ask them for advice! Come on, you wanted bro time, and that’s what I’ve arranged.”

Jaune gaped at her. “Wait, you _arranged_ this? So, does that mean they know…?”

Ruby shook her head, short hair flailing. “They don’t know for sure. But they’ve guessed. And as far as they know, you want advice on girls.”

_Oh no…_ He’d already had that talk with Ren, and since this time it wouldn’t be about Weiss… The martial artist could easily deduct what was going on.

Ruby peeked behind the library shelf at the table up ahead. The three boys in question were gathered at it, Ren busily reading while Sun and Neptune chatted. “Ok, they’re just there,” she said, turning back to Jaune. She grabbed his arm in an attempt to pull him forward.

The stronger and larger of the two, Jaune easily resisted. “Actually, I think I should go and check on Pyrrha.” He laughed nervously, and tried to retreat but Ruby blocked his way and pushed him with all her might out of their hiding place. He stumbled, almost fell, and regained his balance just as he was about to crash into the table. Its three occupants cast him expectant looks.

“Mr Arc, welcome!” Sun grinned. “Please, take a seat.”

“Well, er, actually I…”

Ren kicked the chair opposite him from under the table, glaring insistently at his leader. Jaune swallowed, and sat in it. 

“So,” Sun clapped his hands together. “Ruby tells us you need our help.”

“Uh…” Jaune nearly denied it, but the look Ren was giving him forced him to go along with it. “Yeah, I guess…” He cleared his throat. “I need advice on…girls.”

Ren closed his book with a snap. “Don’t you remember anything that Pyrrha said?”

“Yes but…back then it was different.”

“Wait,” said Neptune. “What did Pyrrha say?”

“Essentially what I told you.”

Neptune nodded at the memory. “‘Be yourself.’ Well if that’s what girls want, that’s that. Go for it, dude.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” Jaune’s restless eyes flitted from Neptune to Sun, then back to Neptune, then finally on Ren. “There’s a _particular_ girl I want to ask out.”

Ren arched an eyebrow, interest peaking.

Sun shrugged. “So be honest with her.”

Swallowing, the boy shook his blond head. “That’s easier said than done. I could do it with Weiss no problem, but with this girl, it’s different. I’m genuinely worried I’ll screw up and ruin what we already have as a result.”

“You can’t get it wrong if it’s the truth,” said Ren, mimicking Pyrrha’s exact same words. Then, he smiled, pink eyes gleaming. “I think that’s how she’d like to be treated. The truth and nothing but the truth.”

Jaune frowned at his friend’s devious smirk. _He knows._ “What if she shoots me down?”

Though he highly doubted she would, Ren replied, “She’d do it politely and not let it affect the two of you.”

“But I’d never be able to face her again.”

“She’d make sure you can.”

Sun and Neptune exchanged glances. It was Sun who voiced what Jaune had been dreading to hear, “Are we right in assuming that the girl you’re worrying over is Pyrrha?”

While Jaune wanted to sink into the ground, Ren gave them an affirmative nod.

Once rivals, Neptune now draped a supportive arm over the blond boy. “Seriously, man. Go for it. How much do you want to tell her how you feel?”

“Quite a lot.” His hands wrung together under the table. “She most likely take me seriously, and I _do_ want to tell her how I feel, but…I’m not sure if I _can.”_

“You did it with a card,” said Ren simply.

Sun’s eyes lit up. “You sent her a valentine’s card?”

“Dude!” Neptune squeezed Jaune in a brotherly one-arm hug. “Seriously! You _have_ to take the next step now!”

“But–”

“No more running, no more cowering,” said Sun, jabbing a finger at him with each phrase. “You’re a brave guy – now prove that to her.”

“But what if–”

“JAUNE, FOR THE LOVE OF PANCAKES, TELL HER BEFORE _I_ DO!”

The four boys jumped at the high-pitched rant. Nora sat at the table next to them, glaring at her leader. Her headphones looped round her neck, still blasting away.

Humiliation mixed with annoyance, Jaune’s voice almost cracked as he yelled back, “NORA, HEADPHONES ON, GODDAMNIT!”

Cackling in triumph, the hammer-wielder obeyed, though she turned the volume down so she could eavesdrop on the rest of the discussion.

Ren shrugged one shoulder. “She _will_ do it, you know.”

“I know,” his leader sighed. “And I’d prefer me telling her myself than someone else.”

“So do it now,” said Sun.

“Now?”

“Yeah, right now.”

“But she’s still sick. Now might not be the best time.”

“…Alright, but make it soon.”

Groaning in defeat, Jaune sank back against his chair, watching his hands wring together. It was five against one, the boys, Nora and Ruby all telling him use Pyrrha’s advice on the imparter herself. He supposed he couldn’t stay like this forever. No more hiding. Girls like confidence, his father had once told him. Now he understood what he meant by that. Confidence in the truth.

So that was what he would do.

Soon…

 

…. And somehow.


	18. The 'Happening'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Pyrrha feeling well enough to continue the sparring sessions - in the snow, good grief, she's dedicated! - Jaune decides that now's the time to man up.

Water streamed over him, but he couldn’t feel it. He was more interested in the flame-haired girl standing before him in just her underwear. Her face was blurry so he couldn’t see what expression she wore, but he could definitely make out those green, pleading eyes.

In a burst of passion, he threw her arms around her and devoured her mouth in a much-wanted kiss. The feeling was mutual, as she responded as vehemently as him, her hands clawing down his back and in his hair. They bit, sucked, fought for dominance as they kissed, until his mouth pulled away to leave a trail of red marks along her neck and shoulder. While she moaned at his touch, he stopped at the bra strap. He had never unhooked a bra before, but when he did this one, it came undone first try, with seemingly little effort. His mouth covered one nipple as he tore her panties away, not wanting to wait any longer. He came back up to kiss her face, before pinning her against the shower wall. She hooked her legs around his middle, and somehow he was already inside her. He thrust vigorously, her ecstatic moans echoing off the tiles. He groaned with her, louder and louder as their passion built to a climax…

And the dream ended, leaving Jaune in a rather sticky predicament the following morning.

 

It was the fourth day of Pyrrha’s illness, and though she seemed to be gaining strength each day, she still needed more time to rest. She slept right through her teammates getting ready for classes, but she did manage to get herself a whole bowl of cereal from the dorm block kitchen. An hour or so later, she was pleasantly surprised by how strong she felt. Compared to when she first fell ill, she felt as though her legs could carry her for miles, and at a sprint. Her sore throat had gone and her voice was almost back to normal, though she still did have a rather blocked nose.

By lunchtime, she felt well enough to change into her uniform and join the others in the dining hall. After spending so long in the solitude of her dorm, the roaring chatter of the hall was a stark contrast. Crowded tables surrounded her, and she quickly spotted her group at their normal spot. Chuckling with delight at being back, she practically skipped towards them, making sure that there was nothing for her to trip on this time. She went straight for the bright blond head of Jaune, who had his back to her. Feeling playful, she stood behind him to cover her hands over his eyes. 

“Guess who’s back!”

Jaune smiled at the bright, almost sing-song voice. “I guess Pyrrha.”

Her hands slipped away as she slotted on the bench beside him. She looked healthier than she ever had done before, and happier too. She was practically glowing now that her strength had returned.

“So you decided to make an appearance at last,” Jaune laughed, and Pyrrha swotted his arm.

“I guess I needed just one more morning off, but now I’m completely fine.”

“Good.” He held her gaze, and she smiled up at him. Neither broke away, not wanting to be the first to end the moment. 

A slight dusting of red crept across Jaune’s features as he tried to decide what to do. Fragments of last night’s lucid dream played themselves, and he quickly pushed them far, far away into the deepest corners of his mind.

Pyrrha twitched as she thought about kissing his cheek. In front of everyone. Would he be okay with that?

Weiss couldn’t take it anymore. She bolted up from her seat, slamming her hands on the table with such force, the crockery clattered. “OH, FOR THE LOVE OF DUST, JUST KISS HER, YOU MORON!”

Broken out of their moment, the two gaped at her. The colour drained from Jaune’s face while, in contrast, Pyrrha’s darkened to deep crimson. The Ice Queen sank slowly back onto the bench, mouth clamped shut and stared down at her plate. Yang lightly slapped her arm with a scoff.

“So…” Ruby tried to distil the awkwardness in the air. “Welcome back, Pyrrha.”

The redhead thanked her, and tried to fall into the conversations that drifted around her. But Weiss’s words combined with the memory of Jaune’s gazing, almost wistful face. Was he about to kiss her? Would he have done so if Weiss hadn’t interrupted? Either way, they could only steal nervous glances at each other, and made sure they were involved in separate conversations. 

Despite the slight awkwardness between them, Pyrrha still insisted that they spar together that night.

Jaune scratched the back of his head in doubt. “Are you sure? You still sound a little ill and the snow hasn’t gone yet…”  
Pyrrha flashed him a reassuring smile. “I’m certain. Besides, I haven’t done anything in about four days, so I need the practice as much as you do.”

“…Alright, but nothing too strenuous.”

Even after her ordeal, not even the snow could quell Pyrrha’s enthusiasm, as she was the first to reach the rooftop that evening. Snow glittered in the cold moonlight, smooth from a fresh layer, but only ankle deep, thank goodness. She and Jaune had sparred in the snow before, the exercise heating them up but would go back inside earlier as icy water melted into their clothing.  
The champion sighed happily, her breath dancing like a white dragon in the silver light. It felt so good to be back in her combat gear. Yes, she could become fed up with the tight corset, but after all this time she had never felt more comfortable. Her coronet crowned her head, back where it belonged, the gold chains and emerald droplets swinging proudly. For the time being, her unbuttoned coat enveloped her as she waited. To keep herself warm, she completed a few routine stretches, savouring the strength of her muscles, frowning at the stiffness of her legs when she kicked. She’d be back to her old self eventually. 

“OK, I’m here!”

She turned at the voice. Jaune dropped his coat onto the snowy ground and drew his sword, smiling cheerfully.

She readied her own weapon, a confident smirk curling. “Let’s stick with a basic sword duel for now.”

Jaune grinned, and made the first move. Pyrrha was quick to parry his slash, and purposefully left an opening for him. He took it, but she blocked with her shield and jabbed. She was slower than usual, and her muscles actually ached after their uselessness. But the more she pushed on, and as Jaune grew quicker and smarter with his attacks, her warrior side reawakened. As everything came back to her, she moved with more vigour, more strength. Consequently, her temperature rocketed and she paused the fight for a movement to remove her coat.

“I don’t think you should do that,” said Jaune, frowning in concern.

Nonchalantly, his partner shrugged. “I fell into a frozen lake. I think I can withstand a little more wintery weather.”

As the battle continued, she thought about what Weiss had blurted at lunch. Though it had been addressed to Jaune, wasn’t it ironic that it had occurred just as Pyrrha wondered whether or not to kiss him herself? Though she had planned a chaste kiss on the cheek, she had scared herself out of it. Maybe she should try again now?

She brought Milo down in a vertical strike, and Jaune blocked with his sword before pushing her back. Weakened from a lack of training, she stumbled back and almost fell. 

“Are you alright?” Jaune called.

“I’m fine!” Maybe she should ‘accidently’ kiss him? Their weapons could get locked and she’d be close enough to ‘slip’ and plant her mouth against his face? _Oh, you’re such a coward!_

She ran at him, blades clashed, she kicked at his torso but he was quick to block with his shield. 

“Good!” she praised, and came at him again. Their swords danced and kissed, flashing in the moonlight. Pyrrha span and crashed into him, sides smashed together, as Milo slashed across his sword. She pushed, forcing both blades downwards. While Jaune tried to pull his blade back up, and work out what to do, Pyrrha took the opportunity to look at his face. Only the side was presented to her, and he was glaring down at the weapons, frowning with the effort. His cheek was an open target. Swallowing her nerves, she craned forward, closing the distance between their faces…

Sensing the movement, Jaune turned – just as her lips hit his. He didn’t even have time to register what had happened; their lips barely brushed before Pyrrha pulled away, dropping both Milo and Akouo as her hands flew to her blazing cheeks in shock.

“Ohmygodivenoideawhatjusthappenedthereiamsosorry!”

It had been done. She’d done it at last. She’d kissed his lips. Accidently, and for less than a second, but their mouths had definitely met. And now she sounded like Nora on a sugar rush.

Almost shaking, Jaune sheathed his sword, and stared at the ground by Pyrrha’s feet. If his ears weren’t red from the chill already, they certainly were now. “I-It’s fine. Don’t worry.” He tried to raise his gaze, only got as far as her legs, before dropping it again. 

_What had just happened? Had that really happened? That had totally not happened, had it?_

Diffidently, he brought himself to look at her properly. She was still reeling with shock and humiliation, arms now hugged across her body as she stared at nothingness by her feet.

Jaune gulped. “M-maybe we should try that again?”

Gooseflesh pimpled across Pyrrha’s bare shoulders. She raised her head. “The duel or the kiss?”

He squared his shoulders, though his heart hammered like a nervous wreck. _Time to be brave._

“The kiss.”

The gape he received from Pyrrha made him gulp, and he continued hastily, “I mean…I liked it, and you can do it again if you want.” 

“But that kiss was an _accident.”_

Jaune’s cheeks darkened to a deep shade of red, redder than the Forest of Forever Fall, and Pyrrha almost laughed. He looked so adorable like that, and his reaction filled her with confidence. He was embarrassed at her response. He _wanted_ a kiss.  
So, with two meaningful strides, she reached him, took his face in both hands, and pulled him in.

Their lips met again, for more than just a second – three to be precise. His rough against her soft, hearts beating in erratic unison. He didn’t move at all, didn’t even close his eyes. He _couldn’t,_ he was frozen to the spot, the only thing proving that he hadn’t succumbed to the ice being his hammering heart. 

OH MY GOD, JAUNE, GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF! THE GIRL YOU’VE BEEN CRAZY OVER FOR AGES IS KISSING YOU AND YOU’RE DOING ABSOLUTE ZILCH!

She withdrew, panting, not quite believing what she’d done. “That one,” she gasped, “was on purpose.”

JAUNE FLAVIUS ARC, MAN THE FUCK UP!!!

He gripped her shoulders, staring deep into her wide, green eyes. _No ridiculous schemes, just do it._

“So is this.”

His head swooped down and his lips pressed against hers. Pyrrha almost fainted – now _he_ was kissing _her._ Fireworks exploded behind her eyes, brighter than the shattered moon could ever hope to be. Her hands slid up his breastplate, and he wrapped his arms around her, his lips fumbling clumsily as he tried to work out what to do – who knew that one’s characteristics could shine through in such an act? She moved with him, and, like she had been doing for so long during their nights on the rooftop, tried to instil some confidence into him. Her inexperienced lips curled and moulded against his own, trying to show him what she wanted, and he registered it. His movements became more passionate, pushing harder against her. Shyly she nibbled on his lower lip, expelling an excited moan on his part. In response, he licked her top lip, and her tongue peeked out to meet his.

_Ohhhhh wow._

Jaune’s kissing experience was only as far as lips, and Pyrrha hadn’t even kissed anyone on the mouth before. Their tongues made contact, bashfully at first, but then the exploration grew more daring. Smooth, wet tongues gliding over each other, curling, tasting, getting to know one another. As their mouths were occupied, Pyrrha brought her arms around Jaune’s neck, bringing him closer.

_You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this._

Jaune wanted to touch her. His fingertips tracing against her bare back wasn’t enough. He wanted to sink his nails into her, mark her as his own like in the lucid dream. But it was too soon for that. They couldn’t rush, they’d only just made it to first base.

They parted at last, lips wet from the other’s drool – a sloppy, clumsy, first ‘proper’ kiss. They exchanged grins, foreheads resting together.

Pyrrha was the first to speak, “Well, I’ve never done that before.”

Jaune chuckled. “Me neither.”

The redhead drew in a sharp breath. Nora was right. She had to practice what she preached, and now the time had definitely come. “Jaune, listen, I–”

He cut her off, “Before you say anything, there’s something I have to tell you.” He pulled away, but still held her shoulders. Her skin was rough from the mountains of gooseflesh that rippled across it – from the cold and the events that had transpired. His blue gaze was solemn, and she swallowed in anticipation. 

She had been the first to initiate a kiss. So he would be the first to declare his feelings. 

“You’re amazing.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “And incredible, and talented, and the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Touched, she blushed with a smile. “As are you, Jaune.”

His breath was ragged as his heart raced. “But you’ve done so much more for me than I have for you. You attribute all your friendships to me, but without you, I probably wouldn’t still be in Beacon. I can take down ursai by myself. My grades are improving. And it’s all thanks to you sticking by me even after I pushed you away and you found out…you know.”

_The fake transcripts._ She nodded, smile unwavering.

He pulled away completely as if to give himself some space to breathe and calm down. Now for the big one. Pyrrha told him be honest, something she would want. The others approved, so he would do it.

“Whatever I felt for Weiss has got nothing on what I feel for you.”

The words struck Pyrrha like a spear – a hot, glowing spear. Her heart burst, inside she was dancing like a maniac. But her body remained frozen, despite the heat clawing up at it.

One word escaped her mouth: “What?”

Jaune gulped, wondering if now he was being too forward with everything. Well, if he was, he might as well keep going and get it over with.

“So I was wondering, er…would you…like to…” _Hang out? Grab a coffee? What?_ It came out in an uncontrolled, clumsy rush. “Wouldyouliketogooutsometime?”

_‘Go out.’ Just ‘go out.’ Smooth, Jaune. She’ll probably turn you down just for that, you stupid…_

“Yes.”

His eyes snapped up, meeting those of a rigid Pyrrha Nikos. He was surprised she’d even made out his words. A delighted grin snuck across his features. “Y-you do?”

Purposefully, she approached him again, and threw her arms around his neck, chin resting against his shoulder. Tears glistened at her eyes. _This is happening!_

“Of course I do. I’ve wanted this to happen for such a long time.”

_Oh my God._ Beaming now, he cradled her in his arms, rubbing her cold, bare skin. “Me too,” he murmured. 

Eyes shining, she pulled away to kiss him again. He was getting so tall now she needed to stand on her tippy-toes. After everything that had happened, meeting him, falling for him, training him, lamenting over his feelings for Weiss, angsting over Peony’s involvement and everything else to do with the flower girl… Pyrrha had won. She had won the hardest battle of them all, and beheld the greatest reward she’d ever achieved.

Jaune Arc.

A self-proclaimed lovable idiot.

_Her_ lovable idiot, and a fine huntsman in the making.

An involuntary shiver overwhelmed her body, and she rubbed her hands against her arms in instinct. “I think that concludes tonight’s session,” she giggled.

Nodding in agreement, Jaune retrieved their coats while she picked up her discarded weapons. Chivalrously, Jaune draped both coats over her shoulders and snaked an arm round her as they returned into the building. 

“So,” he said as they descended the first flight of stairs. “How does a movie on Saturday sound?”

“Perfect.”

They arrived back at their dorm, greeted by the busily reading Ren and Nora. Seated on the former’s bed, together they peeked over their books at the glowing couple. Wasn’t that Jaune’s coat draped over Pyrrha’s shoulders? Had those two ever smiled this much? Had they ever looked at each other like that – sharing gleeful, knowing grins that only they could decipher? 

They finally caught Jaune’s gaze, and he gave a thumbs up and a wink. Nora gasped.

_‘HAS IT HAPPENED?’_ she mouthed, and her leader nodded in response. An almost inaudible squeal drew from her as she squeezed Ren’s arm. _‘OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENED!’_

_‘I know,’_ he mouthed back. 

_‘Oh wow, wow wow wow, he did it! It’s finally happened! What do you think they did? I need to tell the others!’_

_‘I can’t understand you when you babble like that.’_

Nora didn’t stop to explain herself, as she flicked open her scroll and punched Yang a brief text.

**OMG IT HAS HAPPENED 8D**

Less than thirty seconds after she pressed ‘send’, a door slammed open followed by heavy footsteps across the corridor. JNPR’s door burst open as a pyjama-clad Yang made an explosive entrance.

Startled, Jaune whirled on her. “Yang, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?!”

She didn’t answer. She marched to the hammer-wielder, wrenched her by the wrist and dragged her out of the room. Nora didn’t put up much of a fight – rather, she was giggling as she went. The door slammed shut. The three remaining team members listened intently at the muffled voices.

“What do you mean ‘it has happened’?”

“Jaune gave a thumbs up.”

“What do you…?”

The voices quietened to hushed whispers, joined by the haughty tones of Weiss, who was quickly ordered to whisper or go away. More voices followed. The level, logical voice of Blake, and an excited squeal from Ruby.

“What’s going on?” Pyrrha whispered, hardly realising that she still clasped the two coats around her. At that moment, the door reopened to reveal the five girls in the corridor, giggling, grinning and giddy with glee.

“Pyrrha.” Yang clicked her fingers and pointed at the ground by her feet. “Come over here.”

Glancing at Jaune, Pyrrha slid the coats off her shoulders and crossed over to her. The door slammed shut, and five pairs of excited eyes gleamed at her.

“What just happened?” the blonde brawler grinned, grasping her by the shoulders, ready to shake the truth out of her.

Red flooded into the champion’s cheeks. “What do you mean “what just happened”?”

“What do you mean “what do you mean what just happened”? Answer the damn question!”

Pyrrha shot a glare at Nora, who grinned back at her. How had she found out?

Still, these were the friends who had helped her throughout the Jaune and Peony ordeal, who supported her feelings for him. Friends who would last a lifetime.

She could at least tell them this.

“We kissed.”

 

Jaune stared as the door banged shut. He sighed. “I’ve grown up surrounded by girls, and I still don’t understand them.”

“Same,” Ren admitted, and his pink gaze sliced through him. “So, did you tell her?”

His leader nodded with a shy laugh. “And, er..we kissed too.”

The martial artist’s eyes widened. “So it went pretty well.”

Outside in the corridor, an eruption of cheering roared through the walls. For the second time, the door swung open, crashing into the wall. A beaming Ruby ran in and threw her arms round a stunned Jaune.

“Oh my God, you did it! This is amazing! I’m so happy for _yooouuuu!”_

The boy glanced at the small girl wrapped around his middle. “Uhh…thanks?”

Now the other girls fluttered in, giggling and gabbling about kisses and how ‘it’ had finally happened. He met the gaze of Pyrrha, who offered him an amused roll of her eyes. 

Yang ruffled Jaune’s hair with a laugh. “Knew you’d wake up eventually.”

Ruby released him and said in his defence, “No, he woke up a long time ago. He just got his act together.”

Pyrrha gaped at her. “Wait, you knew he…?”

“Uh…yeah?”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“Hey, you didn’t want us to get involved! So I didn’t…very much.” 

Jaune frowned. “Get involved with what?”

Scoffing, Weiss tossed a white lock over her shoulder and cast him an icy look. “I think an explanation is in order.” She ignored the desperate look and obvious no-gestures from her leader. “Ruby decided it would be a great idea to hook you up with Pyrrha. Several failed escapades and a prank war with Peony later, Pyrrha told us to stay out of it and that she could do it herself.”

The sisters groaned at her, Blake whacked the Ice Queen’s arm with a cat-like scowl. “You really aren’t very good at keeping your mouth shut, are you?” 

Weiss turned to rebuke her, but Yang stepped between the two girls, and dragged the faunus to the doorway. “What a shame it’s time to go now. C’mon girls, let’s leave these lovebirds to it.”

With an exasperated huff, Weiss followed. Ruby managed a strained smile at the newly-formed couple.

“Well, congratulations anyway. Ok, gotta go, have a nice night, _byeee.”_ She was gone in a flurry of rose petals, the door slamming behind her.

Blinking several times, the boy stared after her. “They tried to hook you up with me?”

Pyrrha didn’t respond as she stared at her feet. Her lashes swept over her eyes with a sigh.

Nora answered for her in an almost sing-song voice, “Yes we did.” She skipped back to her bed, flashing Ren a triumphant grin. Her friend rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

Jaune’s eyes fixed on the redhead. “And you were going to…do it yourself?” 

Pyrrha stared at the floor, hands on her fiery cheeks. When she brought herself to look at Jaune, she almost melted in relief to see that he was smiling at her.

Or, smirking would be a better name for it.

He pulled her in for a side hug, and dropped a kiss on her head. “And I beat you to it,” he murmured. 

She rested her head against his shoulder, humming happily. “It all turned out alright in the end.”

“Only alright? I personally think it turned out fantastically!”

She slapped his chest with a giggle. “You knew what I meant.” She craned her neck to reach up to him with her lips. He met her halfway, and they kissed in each other’s arms, quite forgetting about their celebrant audience on the other side of the room.

 

 

_________________________________________________________

And thus the shit got real B)

I had to do this soon, I was getting excited for this moment.

Yes, Jaune's middle name is Flavius, which means 'blond/yellow-haired'. His sword has a Latin name, so it suits. 

I'll leave you to celebrate now.


	19. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune and Pyrrha embark on their first date, and with Aunt Primrose's words echoing in her mind, Peony devises a cunning plan...

Until their first date at least, it was agreed that the two teams were to keep quiet about Jaune and Pyrrha. This was enforced on Weiss and Nora particularly harshly. And when Weiss asked if she could at least tell Neptune the good news, Ruby very nearly whacked her over the head with her book.

“Neptune’s an even bigger blabbermouth than you are!”

As it turned out, the ones who were the worst at keeping the secret were Jaune and Pyrrha themselves. The day after their kiss, they giggled and smiled together in a much more bashful, meaningful manner. As soon as a class was over, Pyrrha would skip straight over to Jaune, or vice versa depending on who packed up first. As they walked side by side, their hands brushed, both desperately wanting to take the other’s hand but knowing that doing so revealed to everyone what was going on. Specifically, Peony or anyone from team POPI.

Though their attempts were noble, any outsider could notice that something had changed between them. Sun pestered Blake about it, who warned him off with a feline glare. So he asked Yang, who told him to go away. So he approached Weiss, who could only reply with a strained smile as she fought the urge to blurt out the wonderful truth.

“I’ve no idea what’s going on,” the tailed faunus said in defeat. “But whatever it is, something has definitely happened between those two.”

Sun wasn’t the only one who noticed. Team CRDL muttered amongst themselves about the “red-haired know-it-all and the dorky idiot”. Coco winked at the couple whenever they crossed paths, while Velvet blushed for them. And Peony kept a very close eye on them. She’d sensed a change, and she didn’t like it. Moreover, it made her seethe, eyes sting, stomach battle with her chest. Every smile or look between them had a hidden message, something she’d never had with Jaune. There was an air of _something_ between the two, making them closer than ever before. Deep down, she knew what was going on, no matter how much she tried to point out even the smallest of flaws of Pyrrha Nikos to prove to herself that there was no way Jaune would go for such a…a…a whatever.

But if it was true…well, she was just going to have to up her game even more than she planned to, wasn’t she?

 

Central Vale’s SuperScreenTM was the biggest movie theatre in the city, and by far the most impressive. It was the most expensive too, but Jaune wanted to impress his date. He’d forgone his usual hoodie in favour for a semi-casual but nicer button-up shirt, and had attempted to comb his hair but, as he’d discovered before the dance, his shaggy locks were impossible to tame.

Stepping into the warmth of the ultra-modern foyer was a welcome from the outdoor chill, where snow turned to murky slush along salted sidewalks. Illuminated posters of all the latest and up-coming movies adorned the walls. The current movies’ posters helpfully had their listed times flashing underneath, a new update to the theatre. 

Jaune beckoned to them. “So, what do you want to see?”

Pyrrha’s gaze swept through each one, indecisive. A kids’ animation, a fantasy epic, a mushy romance, a chilling horror… It wasn’t like she was familiar with the movie industry. Thanks to her new friends, this year she’d watched the most she ever had done. At last she said, “I don’t mind, you choose.”

“Come on, Pyrrha!” Jaune urged. “I’m meant to be treating you here. You’re the boss.”

“But…I’d like us to watch something we’ll both enjoy.”

He couldn’t help but give an affectionate roll of his eyes. Trust Pyrrha to say something like that. “Ok, how about you choose any number of movies that you like the look of.”

“I don’t mind the look of any of them.”

Knowing that he’d have to include himself in this just to satisfy her, Jaune said, “What about the ones either of us seriously won’t enjoy?”

That eliminated the mushy romantic movie and the drama. After a long, and rather one-sided discussion, they managed to get it down to two. After flipping a coin, it was the fantasy that won: _Throne of Games._ With only eleven minutes until it started, the tickets were hastily bought and popcorn quickly ordered, amounting to a cheaper price than Jaune would have liked to have paid for his date.

“I don’t want you to spend lots of money on me, Jaune,” Pyrrha told him. “I just want a nice time.”

The auditorium wasn’t too busy, but all the good seats were taken. They took two right in the corner at the very back – not the best view, but it was cosy…and private. As soon as the movie began, Jaune stole glances at his date, then at her hand resting on her lap, and wondered if he should hold it. After about an hour of debating – and missing a good portion of the movie as a result – he decided to go for it. In the darkness, his hand crept across the arm rest to her lap, heart lurching when he almost missed her hand entirely, which would have resulted in him landing on her crotch. His fingers entwined with hers and he brought their locked hands onto the arm rest. 

Pyrrha stared at them for a moment, relishing the feel of his large, rather sweaty hand in hers. She gazed up at him, the light from the screen dancing in her vivid eyes. They exchanged bashful grins, and she reached in to kiss his cheek – this time hitting the target. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he rested his cheek on top, sighing contently.

They stayed like that until one hour and three quarters in, when an on-screen passionate kiss delved into a heated sex scene. Jaune swallowed, sensing déjà vu, back when during such a scene Peony had forced herself onto him. He hadn’t helped by reciprocating, only because he wanted to know what kissing was like. But Pyrrha was with him now, her hand in his, and he wanted to kiss her more than out of discovery, but out of longing. The movie sex concluded, his jeans felt too tight now, and he shifted Pyrrha off his shoulder to tilt her head up to him. It was too dark to see what expression she wore, nor did he wait to read it. He kissed her fully on the lips, and she was quick to respond. Soon their hands separated so they could hold each other, grasp, cling, feel, explore. 

Pyrrha inwardly gasped when he brushed against the side of her breast – had that been on purpose, his way of being subtle? She wondered how he’d react if she slipped her hands under his shirt, or ‘accidently’ touched his crotch. It almost shamed her to wonder such things, and so early on, but then, she did think about _a lot of things_ when she was in the shower. Little did she know that the reason why Jaune’s hands slithered up and down her back was because, in a deep, dark, sensual part of him, he was very tempted to reach under her top and unhook her bra. The movies weren't the best place for that sort of thing, they would be better off in the privacy of...where exactly? Their dorm was hardly a sensible option; Ren and Nora, or even team RWBY, could burst in on them at any time. Heck, why was he asking himself such things on a _first date?_ He could worry about all that once Pyrrha gave him the Signs…whatever they were. 

A thunderous dragon roar boomed from the screen, wrenching them apart with a jump. They giggled; it was almost as if the movie was demanding their attention. So they biddably watched it to the end, hand in hand once more. The credits rolled, the audience slowly filed out. The couple’s hands were still interlocked when they followed the string of people.

“So,” Jaune said back in the foyer. “What did you think?”

Pyrrha cast him a sly smile. “Great – what I saw of it.”

Laughing, he nudged her playfully in the ribs, only for her to retaliate – harder. He stumbled and she caught his arm, quickly apologising while he insisted it was alright.

Donning their coats once more, the pair stepped out of the theatre and back into the wintery scene beginning to succumb to the blaring sun. Pyrrha took Jaune’s arm as they made their way back to the airship port. She glanced up at him every now and then, wondering how to tell him what she wanted – needed – to tell him. It wasn’t until they were on an empty sidewalk that she got the words out of her throat.

“I was the one who gave you the valentine’s card.”

Jaune frowned at her. “What?”

“The valentine’s card,” she repeated, and took a deep breath in to calm herself. “The one with the newspaper clippings.” She brought her other hand to rest on his arm. “It was from me.”

“Too scared to tell me in person,” he breathed, reciting the snipped-letter message, his words a spiralling white cloud, floating like his stomach. _Too scared._ Pyrrha, for all her quiet confidence, who once shot back at Cardin with witty words, who he’d seen smirk whenever she found an opening during sparring… deep down, when it came to matters of the heart, she was shy.

Meanwhile, Pyrrha flinched at that word. _Scared._ As much as she never liked to admit it, scared was what she was, what she’d been for a long time. It was a fear very different from what one might feel when faced with a bloodthirsty Grimm. 

Her gaze jolted up again when she felt a caressing weight on her hand. Jaune had placed his own on top. A sardonic smile spread across his face. How mischievous fate could be; all along they’d already decaled to each other their feelings.

“Well, you weren’t the only one,” he murmured. They rounded a corner, the airship port was in sight, but with no vehicle on the landing pad yet. They had plenty of time.

He decided to be suave. “Did you like the rose I drew?”

“What rose? _Ohhh…”_ ‘Oh’ indeed. A hand flew to her rosying cheek. “That card was from you?”

“Yep.”

“…The one that made me…dance?”

“And sing, don’t forget the singing.” _And wearing just a towel._ Something coiled in his belly at the memory and everything that had followed.

Pyrrha’s other hand drew away so that both reddening cheeks could be hidden. “But it made me so happy.” So happy in fact, that she had read it over and over again until it was imprinted in her mind.

 _I know it’s cowardly to hide by writing this instead of just telling you, but this is legit the scariest thing I’ve ever done…_

He’d been scared as well. And for some reason, that comforted her.

Her hand slithered back into his, squeezing. “It was a very nice rose. Thank you.”

Jaune shrugged. “I just thought it was appropriate, given our conversation about the rose-exchanging in Sanctum. My only regret is that I couldn’t get you a real one.”

She smiled. “I prefer the drawn one. It’s more meaningful. As…as well as the message.”

An expectant Ren and Nora awaited them in their dorm. The ever lively hammer-wielder bounced around them, probing them about how their date went. When she was told by Pyrrha that it was “really, really nice”, more rather specific questions were asked. Did they kiss? How much? How passionate? With tongues or without? Did they hug while kissing? Did they kiss just on the mouth?

The last one made Ren slap his forehead in embarrassment for them. “I’m so sorry. She’s just devoured half a bottle of syrup.” To spare his teammates the pain any further, he shook Nora’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get you…sobered up, as it were.”

“But I’m not drunk!” Nora protested with a rather insane, contradictory cackle, but did his bidding all the same. The door closed behind them, and Jaune expelled a sigh of relief.  
“I fear for us all sometimes, I really do.”

Pyrrha giggled, removing her coat and hooking it on her bed post. Jaune did the same, watching her. They were alone now, for who knows how long while Nora recovered from her sugar rush. They could…they could…they could what exactly? Inwardly, he slapped himself, hard, with a wet fish. He had to stop thinking so forwardly, so… _pervertedly._ Yes, he was a hormone-surging boy one step closer to getting laid, but still. Besides, before all that there was something he needed to ask Pyrrha.

He wheeled on her, catching her serenely content gaze. He breathed in, and delivered his question not as confidently as he’d hoped. The words kept getting stuck in his throat as he constantly reminded himself the hugeness of this next step, crossing another large boundary where there was no going back to the friends they once were.

“So…from here on out, d’you wanna…you know, go steady? Be my girlfriend…and stuff?”

Pyrrha sucked a small gasp. Her fingers knotted together, squeezing to stop herself from jumping up and down in excitement. 

_YES!_

Kissing him was one thing, being asked to be official with him was even greater, a dream that had tormented her out of its unlikelihood. But it was happening, not in a dream, and she wasn’t going to wake up to a shattered illusion.

Her smile widened. “I’d love that.”

That was it, they were an official couple, and a stronger bond than Peony could ever have achieved with Jaune. The new pair fell into each other’s embrace, then succumbed to their kisses which quickly deepened into something more passionate. They fell onto Pyrrha’s bed, locked in a tangle of clutching arms and legs. As the kissing raved on, Pyrrha’s hands wove through his shaggy hair while Jaune’s traced along her spine and waist. He wondered where he would be allowed to touch her. He wondered if he could get away with another subtle stroke – a thigh, the side of a breast again… Subconsciously, his body answered for him. His right hand found Pyrrha’s knee, and slid up her jeans, along her outer thigh, ever so slowly, towards her behind. How would she react if he squeezed it? He decided he wanted to find out, and even slower than before, advanced towards it.

The door handle clicked. The two hastily disentangled themselves to a more acceptable embrace on the bed, just in time. Ren and Nora had returned, the latter looking a little saner.

“That was quick,” Pyrrha remarked, trying not to let her disappointment show. 

“It’s amazing what decaf coffee can do,” Ren sighed, flopping onto his bed beside Nora, who booped his nose. 

Pyrrha giggled at the scene in an attempt to supress a frustrated growl. Jaune’s inquisitive hand trailing up her thigh had felt so good, made especially so by the confidence shining through in his actions, and she had been about to take it and guide it up to her butt cheek. Pity.

 

It was announced the following morning.

Being their teammates, Ren and Nora were the first to know. The couple told them, hands locked, Jaune being the one to voice the revelation. The reaction they received was not all unexpected, Nora squealing hysterically and hugging the both of them, while Ren offered more controlled yet beatific congratulations and shook them by the hand. Jaune and Pyrrha had planned on telling teams RWBY and SSSN themselves, but Nora burst into their wing team’s dorm, unstoppable, the good news booming at the stunned girls. A loud cheer ensued from all four.

While her teammates went to invade Jaune and Pyrrha with celebratory hugs and praise, Ruby raised her Cupid list to her lips and kissed it with a satisfied sigh. They’d done it. Operation Clandestine Cupid was, though short-lived and abolished, an eventual success.

Pyrrha received hugs from each one of them while Jaune only three – Weiss shook his hand and warned him, tone dark and frosty, that if he were to EVER hurt Pyrrha in any way, the wrath of the Schnee Dust Company, in allegiance with the Atlesian army, would rain sourly down on him. And Jaune decided that she probably wasn’t joking. She then proceeded to message Neptune the news, who in turn informed his team, who then made a show of celebration at breakfast that morning. That was how most of the school and exchange found out – Pyrrha Nikos and her team leader! The strongest student with the weakest. A minor celebrity and a nobody. It spread around the school like wild fire, and that day Jaune found himself burning as everyone’s eyes seemed to be on him and his girlfriend. Too many people watched them, whispered, giggled, squealed, cooed and smiled at them. Strangers – mostly male – high-fived him or patted his shoulder whenever they passed by. 

“The excitement will die down in time,” Pyrrha reassured him, herself a little flustered under the increased attention.

It took mere hours for most of Beacon and its exchange students to hear of the union. Peony, as usual, avoided breakfast and its ‘fattening’ cereals, and the outdoors in general as she planned her scheme to win back her knight in shining armour. It was Poppy who told her.

“There isn’t any other way to say this: Jaune and Pyrrha are officially together.”

Peony didn’t believe her at first, convinced that it was just a rumour sparked by someone seeing the flaming bitch advance too forwardly on _her_ Jaune. So she stormed outside, without bothering to don a coat, and halted at the gardens. Her breath caught in her throat. Something stabbed her in the chest. On the other end of the gardens, were two tall teens, one flame-haired, the other flaxen. Unmistakably Jaune and Pyrrha, strolling side by side.

Holding hands.

Exchanging kisses.

Smiling.

Now that the truth laid before her clear as day, her heart fell to her stomach like a block of ice. It was as though a cold fist, preferably Pyrrha’s fist, had punched the wind out of her. She was right: the red-haired bitch was a thief. The couple gazed at each other with adoring eyes, Jaune paying close attention to everything his girlfriend said, laughing together, genuine mirth shining in his blue gaze.

Pyrrha had attained that from him while she, Peony Bloom, had not.

HOW?

Feeling a scream ready to explode out of her, the flower girl span on her heel and ran before the pair could notice her. She ran all the way back to her dorm, whamming the door behind her. Poppy had disappeared, presumably to find her. She’d certainly find her now.

Inside the dainty flower, the storm raged. Love for Jaune outweighed by anger over his betrayal. Jealousy over Pyrrha lofty position as his girlfriend, and fury as that place had been stolen. The feelings coiled and whipped inside her like a tornado. A tornado of whirling petals – ones that could pierce skin.

Peony opened her mouth and flung it forth in one almighty scream. It was her loudest, her highest, it ragged her throat as much as it drilled the ears of anyone who was unfortunate enough to hear. Raging petals burst from her body as a pink blizzard ravaged the room. Curtains were slashed, bed sheets torn, whole place ransacked. When she finally finished screaming, she fell down in a soft carpet of her own Semblance, petals still floating around her. She cried, howled, didn’t bother stop the flowing tears from ruining her makeup. 

She had lost. Pyrrha had Jaune, and he looked happier than he ever had done. 

_What’s the point? Maybe I should just give up!_

As if present in spirit, her aunt’s honey-sweet voice lilted in her mind.

 _You deserve him…his mind has been poisoned against you…love is worth fighting for…best her in everything._

The howling stopped. Hands trembling, Peony wiped her running nose. Aunt Primrose was right. She had to best Pyrrha somehow – and in everything she did, besides battle. She had to show Jaune what a wonderful person she was, since he hadn’t grasped that fact when they were dating.

That was when the idea struck, and it was so amazing and beautifully clever that the tears ceased all together. The petals around her had stopped stirring, blanketing the place in a pink, snow-like sprinkling that would disperse on its own eventually. The pain still afflicted her, of course, but her confidence in the plan outshone it. Now she had every reason to believe that Jaune would soon beg her back on his very knees.

 

The head gardener, a thin man with moustache that curiously resembled a broom’s brush, regarded her in disbelief. 

“You want to what?”

Peony beamed up at him, angelic. “I want to help you.”

She had found the man at his storeroom not long after she went out to search for him. After detailing her desire to lend her assistance, his eyebrows raised and moustache twitched.

“Begging your pardon,” he said now, “but you don’t look the type for such…labour.”

Peony propped a prim hand on her hip – nails coated a fresh, sparkly pink. “Because I’m a delicate young girl. While I admit, I will struggle with some of the maintenance-” she was rather reluctant to take part in any of it, really, but it would all be worth it in the end “-I can certainly be of use in adding a woman’s touch to the gardens.”

That much was very true. Despite worrying about all the dirt that would smear all over her, she was quite the green thumb, her extensive knowledge of plants and gardening rather unmatched. Only thing was, she hardly applied it to manual labour; that was much to fatiguing, and made one’s hands calloused. But she would do this, for herself and Jaune.

It took a little more persuading, and demonstration of her knowledge, but before long the gardener relented, furtively happy that he could pawn off one task onto somebody else. He set her to work that day, her first task being trimming some of the garden bushes. In the cold sun and the melting snow, she did it, thinking about her next stage in the plan. She drew many stares from passers-by, being a student volunteering on the grounds, but that was a good thing. Word would reach Jaune, which comforted her enough to think about what she could do with the garden. When she returned to the gardener, dragging a sack of clippings behind her, her ideas flowed out of her. Snowdrops should be planted here, daffodil bulbs put there, these crocuses arranged in this way so that their colours would blend together.

“If that’s what you want to do,” the gardener replied, looking up from his magazine (all Peony could make out was a woman and a lot of skin showing on the cover), “then go ahead. Sounds good to me, anyway.”

So Peony did it. For the next couple days, before and after classes, at morning and lunch breaks, she worked in the garden. Wild snowdrops dug up and moved to a more suitable and safer location, bulbs planted, seeds sprinkled, as she prepared the garden for the spring. The slush made the ground very wet, and mud was something she had had to get used to. She became particularly distressed when it smeared her clothes, but didn’t relent. Love was worth fighting for, come snow or mud.

Word got round Beacon as quickly as the news about Jaune and Pyrrha, of Peony Bloom’s voluntary work in the gardens. Weiss remarked that she was “finally doing something useful”. Pyrrha stated rather monotonously that she must be doing it to take her mind off everything. And Jaune accepted it with a shrug and, “We all have different hobbies.”

Hedges were trimmed, flowerbeds weeded, the snow was almost gone, and Peony received a lot of attention and praise, but none of it came from Jaune – or anyone from RWBY or JNPR for that matter. Some offered her small nods and rueful smiles, Jaune hardly crossed through the gardens and advised Pyrrha to do the same. Ruby kept her distance, a feeling in her bones that Peony was up to something.

Disappointed as she may be, Peony persisted to the third day, when her plan took an unexpected turn. She was planting her latest batch of spring flowers during lunch break, and a shadow fell across her. She raised her eyes, to see the small stature of Dove Bronzewing. She didn’t know what to make of it at first; she knew this guy belonged to Team Jerk and that he followed Cardin around with the other cronies like a lost puppy, and that he seemed to have a permanent squint. But the way he was looking at her now, with those rarely-seen eyes, hands wringing together as he panted and cheeks flushed… this was more a nervous boy than a bully wingman.

“Hi, Peony,” he said, voice goofy with nerves.

“Hi,” she answered, and carried on weeding. 

“Sooo…doing some gardening, huh? You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

Peony didn’t look up again as she grunted, “Uh-huh.”

Gulping, the short boy continued, “That’s really amazing of you, you know. Not many girls would be willing to do something so…laborious.”

Peony allowed herself a small smile at the praise. Yes, she was amazing, and it was nice to know that others saw it too.

“Y-you’re really hardworking, and-and pretty too. I-I mean…”

Now the flower girl looked up at him, magenta eyes narrowed in questioning. “What’s this all about?”

His own eyes widened, revealing bronze irises. He let out a startled whimper, before clenching his fists and letting it all out in a rush. “You’re really pretty and amazing, I mean, look at how you’re volunteering to help the school – and it’s not even your own school – without asking for anything in return, making you beautiful on the inside too!”

Supressing a gasp, Peony looked away. Here was proof that what she and her aunt thought was true. But why couldn’t it be Jaune saying this? Then again…what if she showed Jaune that others saw her like this?

Dove’s diffident stammering snatched her attention back. 

“So, er, you know this…this Fort Castle field trip on Friday? I was, um, thinking we could be…be p-partners. L-like a…date?”

A date with Dove… The boy was rather short for her liking, but who says she needed to like him when she was just…borrowing him. With him, she would make Jaune jealous. She would prove to Jaune what he was missing out on. Yes, yes! She should continue working, and more boys like this one would flock to ask her out because she was so pretty and hardworking and beautiful, inside and out.

So, she flashed him a smile, dazzling and bright as a spring morning, sending him stumbling back a little as his face darkened to Forever Fall red.

“It sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said.

________________________________________________________  
This is the part where I reveal that Peony is actually semi-based on a real person. Both are flirtatious girls that love pink and screw about with other people's lives. They even have similar hair, and the real-life girl isn't well-liked so I hear because of her questionable antics. Obviously, all events in this fic are fictional and Peony herself is exaggerated.  
So yeah, now you know.


	20. Fort Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fort Castle's dungeons receives its first prisoners since the Faunus War.

The ruined Fort Castle stood on its acropolis overlooking Vale like a hunched gargoyle. Crumbled walls and shrunken towers rose around the courtyard wild with grass and weeds where the teenagers stood. Thin patches of snow served as the remaining fragments of the reseeding cold snap. Still, the teens donned coats and scarves, fidgeting in boredom and cold as Dr Oobleck’s voice babbled around them.

“This, students, is the very place where the crucial, hand-to-hand struggle during the final stages of the battle took place!” The eccentric history teacher zoomed to a low section of crumbled wall to beckon at the courtyard with his arms. His voice grew quicker as his enthusiasm grew – something that wasn’t shared by his students. “As General Lagune lead the remainder of his crippled forces into this very courtyard. Indeed, there were still much more of them than there were faunus, but the general believed that, close up, numbers truly would win him the battle. Obviously-” in a blur, he was on the ground again “-he was wrong. The faunus had gotten rid of all light they had during the assault on the towers and outer walls. That made the targets much harder to hit, even with Lagune and his army’s own light sources.” 

He was now behind the students, who turned amidst grumbles to face him. “Having crushed the gates at last, Lagune’s over-confidence lost him the battle. The army couldn’t fight with torches in one hand. Therefore, the faunus’ night vision allowed them to move quickly and stealthily, infiltrating the enemy ranks and defeating many of the army before capturing the egotistical general himself.” He shot to the other side of the group, slurping some coffee from his thermos. “Now, I’m sure you’re all eager to explore these intriguing ruins…”

Many pairs of eyes lit up at him, shining as their release from his gabbling lecture drew near. Ruby clasped her hands together, praying for him to set them free. Nora quickly scanned the area to determine which tower was the tallest, from which she would assert her reign as queen over this castle. Peony glared at the backs of Jaune and Pyrrha’s heads, their closeness suggesting that they were holding hands. She felt Dove’s creep in to try and take hers, and she shifted away just enough for him to miss and not realise that she’d done so deliberately.

Oobleck crushed their hopes. “But before that, allow me to introduce you to the castle’s founder – not physically of course, as he’s been dead for hundreds of years…”

Another forty-five minutes of the caffeine-fuelled voice later, the first years were finally liberated. Oobleck’s voice rose over the relieved chatter, reminding them to stay with their partners and to head to the main courtyard should they become separated, and not to go too close to the edge of the towers and walls, and not to venture anywhere visitors weren’t permitted…

“I thought we’d never escape!” Ruby muttered as she dragged Weiss to the ramparts, the latter insisting that they read the information guides as they walked. 

The towers were a popular choice to explore, and after winding up the never-ending, spiralling staircase, Nora and Ren were the first to make it to the top of the tallest one. A resounding cackle echoed throughout the castle grounds as Nora’s self-coronation took place. Her trademark song rang about the site like melodic thunder, “I’M QUEEN OF THE CASTLE! I’M QUEEN OF THE CASTLE!”

With the historic site being so close to home, Jaune was more than happy to guide Pyrrha round, having been round it so much he knew a vague history of it all by heart. Pyrrha herself was studious enough to also know all about it, but she’d never visited and allowed her boyfriend to lead her to various roofless rooms, fenced-off pits and snaking battlements. From the top of the towers, the view that met them was stunning. On one side was the vast skyline of Vale. On the other was an extensive tangle of hedges – the Fort Castle maze.

“I’ve gotten lost in there so many times,” said Jaune as various memories flooded back to him. “One time I sat down in the middle and cried for two hours because I couldn’t find my mom – or anyone.”

Pyrrha looked up at him. “Didn’t you know the right hand trick?”

“Not at five years old, no.”

An hour of exploration zoomed by as fast as Dr Oobleck on a caffeine rush. Sun had earned a week’s worth of detentions for scaling a tower wall, Yang had physically dragged Blake by the hair to stop her from reading every information board they passed, Nora invaded every tower to add to her empire, and Weiss had lost Ruby. She didn’t know how, or even where, she just knew that the caped girl was gone. Frustrated and bewildered in the courtyard, she was found by Jaune and Pyrrha, who were no help when she asked if either had seen Ruby.

“How did you lose her?” Jaune inquired, an amused smile spreading across his lips.

Weiss paced as she ranted, “She wanted to go down to the dungeons. I said no because they’re dark and cold and disgusting and probably prohibited. I started walking to indicate that the matter was settled. She followed me for a while, and I can’t remember much but she must have stopped and gone back at one point because when I turned around she was gone.” She took her side ponytail into her hands, stroking it nervously. “Oh God, please don’t tell Yang…”

“Why don’t you call her scroll?”

Icy eyes flashing, Weiss wheeled on him. “Don’t you think I’ve already tried that? This is _Fort Castle_ – the signal here is minimal at best!”

Pyrrha’s calm tones soothed the situation. “Look, if the dungeons were where she wanted to go, then surely that’s the best place to search first.”

“Precisely,” Jaune exchanged grins with her. “And Oobleck said to come here if you get separated. Maybe you should wait here, Weiss, while we check out the dungeons?”

“No, I think it’s more than likely that Ruby’s down there. I want to scold her the moment I see her.”

“Okay, while you do that, we could wait here in case she comes by.”

Weiss gave them a rather sheepish look. “I will admit…I don’t want to go down there alone.” Her eyes rested on Pyrrha, a silent plea.

But it was Jaune who picked up on the hint. “Pfft, alright I’ll go down with you. Pyrrha, if we don’t come back in ten minutes, come and find us.” He planted a goodbye kiss on her cheek, and led the way through a destroyed arch in a wall. Reluctantly, Weiss followed with a scoff, grumbling about her temporary partner once again not being Pyrrha, just like during initiation. The champion herself, meanwhile, was more than pleased with the arrangement. She wasn’t all that comfortable with delving into dungeons either. All kinds of… _things_ crawled about in there. Little, itchy things that you couldn’t see, only feel, and it freaked her out.

From the other side of the courtyard, Peony watched them, hidden behind a section of ruined wall. She’d shaken off Dove at last, who in the past hour had been an unbearable partner, clinging onto her, talking to her about everything and nothing, kissing her hand, attempting to kiss her face… If she had realised that this was precisely how Jaune had felt when they were together, she might have seen sense and come to sympathise in his decision to break up with her. But all Peony could see was her own brilliant resplendence that everyone should bow down to – not in a creepy fashion like Dove, though – and the fact that now was the time to strike. If the voluntary labour for the good of Beacon Academy hadn’t proven to Jaune and the others what a good person she was, this certainly would. 

Taking the rout under the battlements, the flower girl slipped to the arch undetected, following Jaune and Weiss’s tracks.

 

“There it is.” Weiss’s clicking heels echoed around the gloomy tower as they descended the spiralling stone steps. She had led the way through a warren of halls – ruined and intact – at an insistent pace. Now as they descended the tower to below ground level, her strides slowed as reluctance built. Now, she pointed down at a doorway a few steps away, leading to nothing but black.

Swallowing, Jaune flicked out his scroll, activating its torch. They were going to need it.

They stopped at the entrance, and Weiss shuffled behind her taller companion, who glanced at her. “Are you sure you want to come too?” he asked.

The Ice Queen’s eyes narrowed. “Of course I do. If Ruby’s in there I want the satisfaction of putting her straight before she can come up with some outrageous excuse.”

Jaune shrugged, and after a deep breath, stepped in. His scroll’s white light bathed the closer walls and pillars, illuminating them to a damp grey. The dungeons seemed to stretch throughout the entire length of the castle as the other end was opaque with black. The only other source of light came from slats in the tops of the walls, through which trickled a pitiful amount of daylight. Said slats came complete with the dungeon favourite – iron bars.

“The faunus used to keep their human prisoners down here,” Weiss muttered, and a chill shocked down her spine. Though it was colder down here, she could make out several metal objects glinting from the walls; shackles, chains, and perhaps some deactivated torture devices. When it came to the Faunus War, sometimes it was hard to tell which side was truly better.

Meanwhile, Jaune decided to get on with what they were there for. “Ruby!” he hissed – why was he hissing? He might as well shout. Perhaps deep down he was scared of what could answer; there was a reason why Fort Castle hosted midnight ghost tours. He raised his voice a little, “Ruby!” The name echoed around the room like a detached cry.

Impatient as ever, Weiss _did_ shout, “RUBY!” It bounced off the pillars, danced on the shadows and flew back at them. She shouted again, ignoring the eerie response, “RUBY ROSE! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Jaune joined in the calling as they slowly made their way down the room. With only their own voices responding, it was soon concluded that Ruby wasn’t there after all.

“Unless she’s fainted,” Jaune pointed out, then pressed on with searching as the suggestion became more plausible.

Weiss rolled her eyes. “I highly doubt that – she was perfectly fine before she disappeared.” She followed him none the less, and before long deep black surrounded them and their bubble of white light being emitted from the scroll. The open door stood open at the other end, a dim grey as steps twisted from it with little light of their own. They took a few more steps, before a thunderous bang roared behind them. Both jumped, clutching one another, screaming at the tops of their lungs at such a high pitch it was hard to tell whose was whose. Gaping in the direction of the noise, they screamed again. Everything was black, with no sign of the open doorway.

The bang had been the door slamming shut.

“I knew this place was haunted!” Jaune whined.

“Shut up, you dolt!” Weiss tried to regain a commanding tone, but it had reduced to little more than a whimper. “Go and check the door.”

“A-alone?”

“What? Are you _scared?”_  
“N-no, just you’d be left alone in the dark – I kinda need this to see where I’m going.” He waved his shining scroll at her, and she groaned in defeat, blinking at the light.

They scurried back to the door, sticking close together to stay within the light from the scroll. Jaune pulled the door handle, twisted it, pushed, rammed into the door with his shoulder, but it remained firm as the stone walls.

“We’re locked in!” he wailed.

“How can we be?” Weiss snapped. “I never heard a lock click. Let me try.” She pushed him aside, convinced that he must have been doing it wrong. She heaved, wrenched, forced all her strength on the door, growling as her frustration built. But her efforts were in vain. They were incarcerated like the prisoners of the Faunus War, like General Lagune.

The two exchanged panicked looks.

“Now what?”

 

Seven minutes had passed. Flicking shut the scroll from which she’d read the time, Pyrrha began pacing between two ruined flagstones that were once part of the floor of the courtyard. It was incredible how slowly ten minutes could pass.

“Hey, Pyrrha!”

She span at the cheery voice, and her eyes widened at the red-caped girl springing towards her – from the complete opposite direction of the dungeons.

“Ruby!” she gasped. “Where have you been? Weiss and Jaune are looking for you!”

Ruby frowned. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Apparently you wandered off, and Weiss and Jaune are now looking for you in the dungeons.”

“Oh.” A guilty blush swept across Ruby’s face. “Well…in all honesty, I did go to the dungeons, but it was boring so I came straight back out. Then I couldn’t find Weiss – I’ve just been looking for her.” A wicked grin split the blush. “Wow, she went _into_ the dungeons just to find me?”

“So she could scold you first-hand.”

“Oh,” Ruby said again, face falling. “So where-”

She was cut across by a bloodcurdling scream – two screams entwined in one. The girls jumped and Pyrrha knew who it was by the signature falsetto pitch.

“Jaune!”

“And Weiss!” Ruby added, and clamped her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God, they’ve died, haven’t they?!” she wailed through it. “I’ve killed them! There was a murderer hiding in the shadows the entire time and it could have been me if I hadn’t been so selfish and left and…”

Pyrrha had stopped listening by that point, as she gingerly approached the direction of the scream. It seemed to have come from somewhere by the archway, but it sounded far too close to have come from the dungeons.

“Pyrrha, look.” Ruby knelt by a grating at the bottom of the wall. She peeked in, muttering, “I swear to Oum, if I see dead bodies…” But all she could see was what the light that seeped in would allow – a stone floor and a couple of pillars.

Pyrrha knelt beside her, squinting in. “Is that the dungeons?”

“Yep.” Ruby pressed her face closer to the iron bars. “Weiss! Jaune! Are you in there?”

There was a series of bangs, an insistent hiss for silence, and then a murmur.

“Weeeeiissss!” Ruby called, voice bouncing off the pillars and walls. “Jaaaauuuuuunnnnne! Are you ok? Are you alive?”

An echoing voice tumbled back, “Ruby!” This was followed by tapping heels as Weiss flounced into the pool of light, and glared up at her lost leader. “Where HAVE you been? I have risked my sanity to go down into this diabolical pit, all because you abandoned me!”

“Look, Weiss, I’m sorry! Just come out of there and we can sort it all out.”

Weiss stamped her foot, anger climaxing. “We cannot ‘just come out’ of here! The door’s locked!”

“What?”

“It’s true.” Jaune approached them, bathed in his scroll’s light. His features were contorted with worry. “The door suddenly slammed shut, and we can’t get out. We’re literally trapped down here.”

Pyrrha gasped, and her fingers subconsciously reaching between the bars. “How is that even possible?”

“We don’t know, but the door won’t budge.”

A strangled whine came from Ruby, whose face twisted into a distressed grimace. “This is all my fault! I should have stayed in the dungeons!”

Weiss snapped, “You shouldn’t have gone to them at all!”

“Please, everyone calm down!” Pyrrha interjected. “How about we find Dr. Oobleck?”

“In these vast grounds? By the time you find him, we would probably have died from hypothermia.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“It _could_ happen!”

“Stop it!” Jaune’s commanding voice rose over them. “No one is dying from anything. We’ll get out of here.” At this, he reached up, and slotted his fingers between the bars, resting them on Pyrrha’s. He gazed at her, eyes a sea of sincerity. “I promise,” he said. It was amazing, he thought, how last semester he would have enjoyed every aspect at being alone in a dark room like this with Weiss Schnee, and having the opportunity to prove his heroics to her. Now he just wanted to get out into the daylight and hold Pyrrha again.

Smiling weakly, the redhead held the gaze. She would have leaned in to kiss him through the grating, but the moment was shattered by Ruby’s notification of her disgust.

“Ewww, _guys!_ As much as we like your being together, can you save the gross lovey-dovey stuff for when you’re alone?”

As much as it prevented any more mooneyes, the couple’s hands still remained in contact.

“How about Pyrrha and I try and open it from the outside?” Ruby suggested, deliberately looking away from their hands.

“It wouldn’t open from our side,” Weiss argued. “Why would yours be any different?”

“Well, of course you can’t open it from your side, how else d’you think they kept prisoners detained?” She fiddled with the hem of her cape in thought. “…But would it have such a contraption? Surely they wouldn’t keep it like that when it’s open to the public? Maybe it’s really, _really_ stiff? I mean, both Pyrrha and Jaune are pretty strong, so… Oh!” Her eyes lit up as inspiration struck. “If they charged into it at the same time, the door could shatter!”

Ice, sapphire and emerald glares burned at the suggestion.

Ruby giggled nervously. _“Orrr,_ while you guys push, we’ll pull?”

Though still dubious, the others nodded at this. It was the best plan they had, after all.

And then, a honey-sweet voice lilted over them, “I have a better idea.”

On the ground, Ruby and Pyrrha turned, parting so Weiss and Jaune could see the pink figure standing between them.

Overcome with frustration and shock, Ruby made no effort to stop herself from screaming. “PEONY, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!”

The flower girl smiled. “Long enough to understand the situation.” She avoided looking at her rival, who had shifted her body to hide her and Jaune’s entwined fingers, though it was far too late for that. 

“You listen here, Peony Bloom,” Weiss’s tone was low and frosty as came forward to point a warning finger at her through the bars. “You need to stop sticking your nose in other people’s business and getting involved when, quite frankly, you’re not wanted.”

Peony cast er an equally scathing look. “So, you don’t want my help.”

“No. We can figure it out ourselves, _thank you very much.”_

“Aw, that’s too bad.” She tossed a brown curl over her shoulder and inspected her nails in a nonchalant fashion. “See, I _was_ planning on telling you about this secret passageway that leads straight out of the dungeons…”

At this Ruby’s ears pricked up, though she remained sceptical when she said, “What ‘secret passageway’?”

“Oh!” Pyrrha slapped her forehead. “I know! It was used as a means of escape by later prisoners toward the end of the Faunus War.” She cast a look at Weiss, hoping to prompt her into agreement. 

The Ice Queen frowned, then the creases softened as parts of one particular lecture floated back to her. “Around eighty prisoners in total escaped…”

“Over a period of four months,” Pyrrha finished. “Until the faunus sealed off the passageway.”

Now Weiss regained her diamond glare. “Ah! ‘Sealed off’. Still sticking by your master plan, Peony?”

“Sealed off by locking a door,” said Peony coolly. “Said door has long since been unlocked, and left to rot as a forgotten part of the wall. And I’ve found it.”

The looks she received were cynical and disbelieving.

Ruby was the first to speak: “You’ve found the entrance to a secret passageway.” Saying it out loud made it sound even more ridiculous.

Peony nodded, smiling sweetly. “I would open it myself, but sadly I’m not strong enough. So if you two could help me, then Jaune and Weiss will be set free.”

The four exchanged doubtful glances, each asking a silent question. Finally, Jaune nodded, receiving a sharp glower from Weiss, but he returned it with a glare of his own.

“Alright.” Ruby turned back to Peony. “We’ll go with you. But if this turns out to be complete baloney…” She tried to think of a consequence. “…It better not be.”

Shrugging with a simper, Peony led the way, curls bobbing lightly with each sashaying step. As the two red girls left the grating, Weiss slapped Jaune’s arm.

“You dolt! That’s the girl that almost killed your girlfriend!”

“By accident,” Jaune defended, holding his arm where she’d hit him. It hadn’t really hurt, he was just holding himself out of support. “Besides, at this point, I’m willing to try anything. Don’t you want to get out of here too?”

“Of course I do…but I don’t like this. Us getting trapped in the _dungeons,_ and the only one who can supposedly get us out is _Peony Bloom?_ Don’t you think it’s a little convenient?”

 

Peony neither spoke nor looked back as she led them by battlements and through crumbled walls. She took them through one particularly tight gap, which made Ruby and Pyrrha question if they were even allowed here.

Nonetheless, Peony marched on, the outer walls of the castle on one side, the vast cluster of concrete that was Vale below on the other. White dusted the hillside, threatening to slip them up should they get too close, so they kept close to the walls.

Peony’s voice sailed over her shoulder as they approached one of the corner towers, “The door’s just here!”

The other two girls frowned up at the tower, almost completely veiled on one side by dead ivy and wisteria.

“How did you know about this?” said Pyrrha, suspicion rising.

“Oh, Dove told me.”

Peony couldn’t see Ruby’s raised eyebrows, but she could hear the surprise in her voice. 

“And where is he now then? We’re meant to stick with our partners!”

Peony supressed a scoff. That Dove had been clinging onto her as they toured the castle, giving her wide-eyed gazes, and hadn’t been too hard to spill all he knew about the secret passageway and its location. He himself had discovered it once, and by imparting it to Peony, thought he was impressing her somehow. The reward he got was the most enthusiastic reaction he’d received from her all day, and dully obeyed when she asked him to explore the maze while she took the time alone “to revel in the beauty of this historic site.” Dove was probably long since lost in the maze by now. And he could stay that way for all she cared. His infatuation over her was supposed to make Jaune jealous. The blond had hardly even spared them a glance; he was too busy gazing at his _new_ girlfriend.

Peony nearly wretched in revulsion.

She reached the tower first, and, remembering the door’s position, tugged a section of the foliage, pulling it back like a curtain to reveal a small wooden door. “This,” she patted the wood, “is the entrance to the passageway.”

“Well, we’ll soon find out,” Pyrrha muttered under her breath. 

Peony took the iron handle, repulsed by the rust against her supple skin, twisted and pulled. After several attempts, Pyrrha stepped in. She took the handle as well, and with her strength, the stubborn door relented, creaking in protest. A doorway of black stared back at them, blind and lifeless as the stone walls.

At once, detached voices floated out like ghosts as Weiss and Jaune exclaimed at the burst of light over on the far side of their prison.

Ruby leant in to call out to them, “Guys! This way!”

Her echoing words reached the trapped teens, who exchanged gapes of delight mixed with shock.

Peony had been right.

Footsteps whispered out of the door, and a white orb from Jaune’s scroll grew until monochrome features of the two manifested. They made their way slowly to avoid the pillars, Weiss squealed as she swore that a mouse had just ran over her foot, then harshly rebuked Jaune for stepping on her toe. Blinding light hit them as they exited through the door, and a cool breeze embraced them, as if welcoming them back. Jaune almost fell when Pyrrha enveloped him in a strong hug, and Ruby only managed a quick hug with Weiss before she was pushed away and received a reproachful scolding from the heiress.

“Ruby Rose, do not EVER do that again! Do you realise what a stressful day I have had? Do you realise the trauma I went through down there?”

In his tangle of arms with Pyrrha, Jaune cleared his throat. “Uh, I was down there too.”

Weiss ignored him. “From now on, you stay close by me! Understand?”

“Calm down, Weiss!” Ruby beckoned with her hands in a similar gesture. “I promise not to leave you again. I wouldn’t want to be all alone in the maze either.”

“That’s right, and just you – wait, the maze?”

Ruby swiftly changed the subject, and glanced past Weiss at a rather disgruntled-looking Peony. Her nemesis and her ex were embracing while she hadn’t received any thanks yet. The caped girl resolved to change that.

“Peony, thank you for your help.”

The flower girl’s magenta gaze met hers. Her features relaxed a little. “Just doing what was necessary. I’m not such a bad person after all.” With this remark, she snatched a sidelong glance at Pyrrha and Jaune, who had parted at hearing Ruby’s thanks.

Weiss turned on her heel. She offered a strained smile at her ‘saviour’. “Yes, thank you, Peony.”

Magenta eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you going to apologise too?”

“For what?”

“For not believing me.”

The heiress drew a long, laboured sigh. “Fine. Peony, I am sorry for disbelieving you about the passageway.” The apology was as forced as her smile.

“Good.” Her eyes rested on Jaune and Pyrrha now, silently demanding.

They thanked her in unison, briefly and with laboured smiles, not quite sure how much praise they should show someone like her. Someone with whom they shared a notorious history.

With that, the four wordlessly departed, leaving Peony unsatisfied. After all the trouble she’d gone through to find the stupid passageway and barricade the dungeon door as quickly as she had… and she still wasn’t perceived as heroic or amazing or much different to how they saw her before. When they disappeared, she snatched a pebble up from the ground and flung it at the miniature city with a hoarse scream. 

_It’s not fair!_

Why couldn’t Jaune see? Why couldn’t _any_ of them see?

In fact, Weiss could see straight through her. As the four re-entered the courtyard, more thoughts stirred in her brain. It was indeed all too convenient that Peony should ‘rescue’ them, right when a door seemingly closed and locked by itself. And the flower girl had insisted they followed her right when Ruby and Pyrrha were about to go to the dungeon entrance themselves… Deciding to put her suspicions to rest, she clutched Ruby’s wrist and heaved her towards the arch.

“Just going to take a look at that door!” she called over her shoulder.

Her caped friend struggled and whined in her grasp. “But what about the _maaaazzzeee?”_

“Later. First let’s see if it really was ghosts who shut the door on us.”

As they disappeared under the arch, Pyrrha’s forehead creased in thought. It was clear what Weiss had meant, it was there in the frostiness of her tone. 

“Do you think Peony could really have been behind it all?” the champion said.

Jaune shrugged with a sigh. “You know, I honestly wouldn’t put it past her.”

“I mean, she did seem a bit too…nice. Especially considering how I’m…how we’re…”

_Together._

“I know,” he said with a smile, and took her hand.

Stroking his knuckles with her thumb, Pyrrha glanced over her shoulder towards the arch Weiss had dragged Ruby through. “So I really do wonder if they’ll find anything.”

In fact, it was Nora who, whilst invading her next submissive tower, discovered the firmly shut dungeon door – barricaded by a heavy, well-placed chair. Thinking that it would make a suitable throne, she and her immense strength hoisted it onto one shoulder, before carrying it back up the curling staircase. 

Five minutes later, Ruby and Weiss investigated the door to find the source of its failure. Upon finding that there was no obstruction, and that it now swung smoothly and effortlessly, Ruby declared that it must have been a ghost after all. And Weiss was almost inclined to agree.

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Starting off mild with Peony's plans, but things will begin to escalate next chapter. In fact, next chapter was originally going to be part of this one, but I had to split it because it was getting too long.


	21. Into the Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Various mishaps ensue in Fort Castle's maze, and Peony grasps the opportunity in both manicured hands to execute a particularly crazy scheme.

“Ruby. This is _not_ a good idea.”

The caped girl turned to her white-haired partner, who had spoken so insistently. Weiss scowled up at the arch of frosty hedge above them, welcoming them into the tangling foliage walls that was the maze of Fort Castle.

“Why not?” Ruby protested. Her moon-coloured eyes rounded into a begging look; pointless as Weiss refused to look at her.

“Because after the dungeon ordeal, I don’t want to risk you getting lost again.”

“But _Weeeiiiissss!_ You _promised!”_

“That was _before_ you ran off.”

“But–”

“No, Ruby. I’m not taking you in there.”

Scoffing, Ruby planted her hands primly on her hips. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to _follow_ me.” In a flash of rose petals, she was under the arch, just inside the maze. She sneered at the fuming Weiss opposite. _“I_ am the team leader, after all.” She darted to the left, trailing petals in her wake.

Expelling a frustrated growl, the heiress flounced under the arch, taking the bait. The younger girl grinned before her at the end of the path, ready to lead her partner even further inward.

“Ruby Rose!” Weiss screeched. “You come back here right now!”

An annoyingly cheery, singsong voice rang back, “Catch me if you can!” Ruby was gone again, and Weiss stormed after her.

 _“Fine!_ Into the maze it is! But once we get out I am going to confiscate your cookies for all the stress you’ve put me through today!”

And thus began one of the many adventures in Fort Castle maze that day.

 

It was cold and damp and horrible, and neither Yang nor Blake were enjoying it. They’d been stuck in the maze now for around twenty minutes, and it was looking likely that they’d remain so for a while. Every corner they turned led to identical paths, sometimes they’d follow a route for a while and have their hopes rise, only for it to lead to an eventual dead end. They didn’t even know which way the castle was anymore. 

But, worst of all, Yang’s hair was ruined.

It had gotten caught so many times on the clawing hedges that a layer of frizz had frothed over her curls, and twigs were trapped there like flies in a spider’s web. Yang had tried to comb her fingers through it in an attempt to tame it, only for her whole hand to get stuck. She would have burnt down the entire labyrinth had not Blake been there to console her.

“Fuck it, Blake,” she muttered, hands balled to fists. “We’re getting the fuck out of here even if it’s the last fucking thing we ever fucking do.”

The faunus winced at the obscene amount of swearing. Yang was angry; on the verge of red-eye angry.

“We’re not burning down the maze. That’ll kill us all.”

“I _know,”_ Yang half-snapped, half-sighed. “But I am fucking _sick_ of all these fucking hedges. Fuck them, fuck this castle, fuck my fucking life!” With a furious battle-cry, one fist buried itself in a hedge. She withdrew with a thorn imbedded in her knuckle, though she didn’t notice. In fact, the punch had given her an idea.

“I’ll give you a boost so you can see where the castle is. Then we crash in a straight line through every hedge until we’re outta here.”

Blake turned, amber eyes wide. “Yang, we _can’t!_ Imagine the trouble we’d-”

Lilac eyes snapped to scarlet as Yang’s thunderous rant exploded forth. “I don’t fucking care! We’re fucking trapped in a fucking maze, and you’re more worried about a fucking detention or something! Just climb up and help us get the fuck out of here!”

Swallowing, Blake obeyed, not wanting to anger her friend any further. In all honestly, she was equally fed up of the place. After Yang had taken a moment to calm down and her eyes had cooled back to lilac, she helped Blake climb up until she was sitting on her shoulders. The blonde was strong and easily held her in place, but neither were tall enough.

“I can’t see over the top yet!” Blake called. “I’ll have to stand.”

A few yelps, grumbles and cursing later, Yang had her hands firmly on the feet planted on her shoulders while Blake tried to balance herself. Being a cat faunus, this was soon dealt with. Rising to her full height, her whole head and torso now peeked over the top of the hedges. 

A sea of green greeted her, a hopeless tangle. The castle loomed to the right, withered with age, crouching like a huddled old man. A little more to the right was a lone tower, serving as a viewing platform over the maze. Said tower, so she’d read from the information guide, was in the very centre of the maze. But that didn’t matter, they weren’t going there.

She was about to point Yang in the castle’s direction when a flash of yellow caught her eye, followed by a clumsier blue.

A few paths away, Sun nimbly hopped from one hedge to the other, laughing at his way of avoiding getting lost. Neptune bumbled behind him, a foot sinking deep into the plants from time to time, as he tried to keep up with the monkey faunus who was _built_ for climbing.

An impatient voice from below snapped back Blake’s attention, “Can you see it yet?”

“Yeah. And rather than charge straight through the bushes, how about we climb over them?”

Yang would have scowled up at her had she not been standing on her shoulders. She directed her look of disgust at the ground before her. 

“I can’t climb up! I’ll just fall down and get even angrier and burn the place down. I’m running these bitches down, okay? Now, where’s that damn castle?”

Sighing, Blake pointed her in its direction. While she opted to leap onto the top of the hedge and lead the way from up there, Yang crashed through leaves and branches, tearing away pieces of plant as she bulldozed her way through like a boulder. Her hair got even more tangled, and she stopped several times to pry a few chunks free from the bushes’ grip. Single strands were yanked out of her scalp; in her desperate state, they were a worthy sacrifice.

 

The hedges were approximately three metres in height, and to small children, monstrous demons that taunted, tricked and entrapped them. Memories of his own hopeless wanderings replayed themselves as Jaune weaved down path after path. The maze had given him nightmares when he was a child, and they still had a look of ominousness about them years later. But he wouldn’t be having nightmares tonight; he was practically a grown man and had slain Grimm, alone. And he had Pyrrha by his side, which made everything better.

Their hands were locked as they walked, their objective being to find the very centre of the maze in order to share a moment on its viewing platform. Fifteen minutes had past and they were definitely lost; trying to head in a vague direction of the tower was a futile effort as the path could easily lead to the complete opposite end of the labyrinth, while trying to head away from it in the hopes that it would eventually take them to the middle was just as fruitless. Unlike Blake and Yang though, the pair remained optimistic, filling their walk with idle chatter and chaste kisses.

A distant crash boomed over the maze, followed by a frustrated scream. The two exchanged knowing grins. 

“Yang.”

Minutes later, the blurring figure that was Sun Wukong flew over their heads, his laughter ringing behind him. From the top of the hedge, Neptune bid them a panting nod, before jumping over to meet him.

“Huh.” Jaune stroked his chin in thought. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Yes it is,” Pyrrha quickly replied, imagining her boyfriend trying to jump that far, and balance on _plants._ And before all that there was actually getting up there.

Thankfully, he shrugged with a shake of his blond mop. “I was kind of kidding anyway. I wouldn’t cheat like that.”

Another few minutes or so passed. A few metres ahead, the path split in either direction. Weiss’s rebuking screeches could be heard a few hedges away, and Ruby appeared from the right path, breathless and giggling. She caught sight of Jaune and Pyrrha, waved, before zooming off in a flurry of petals. Seconds later, the Ice Queen stormed after her, not even sparing the couple a second glance.

Again, the two exchanged grins, and chuckled. Ruby really hadn’t learnt from the dungeon ordeal, it seemed.

By the time they reached that branch in the path, the two girls had vanished, not a rose petal or snowflake in sight.

Taking the left, they never saw the girls again. They did, however, meet team CRL – Dove was gone. The remaining teammates themselves were in a rather hilarious predicament, stacked one on top of the other like a totem pole, Cardin then Lark then Russell. With the weight of the two boys on his shoulders, Cardin hobbled and stumbled as if just a light breeze could be his downfall. In all honesty, Jaune was tempted to push him over himself for old time’s sake.

At the top of the human tower, Russell peeked over the hedges, calling down to the others.

“Nah, can’t see him. Go to the left!”

Grunting, Cardin staggered to the other side. As he turned, he spotted their audience and stumbled in surprise. His teammates wobbled, cursed at him, though no one fell. The three glared at the intruders.

“What do you want, Jaune?” Cardin snapped.

“Just passing through,” Jaune coolly replied, then added. “Both of us _on the ground.”_

Cardin narrowed his eyes, though the blond boy was unfazed as he continued, “What are _you_ doing?”

It was Russell who answered, “Looking for Dove.”

“Dove?” Pyrrha couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. “Wasn’t he supposed to be with Peony?”

Cardin snorted. “Yeah. Thanks to her, we were left as a trio. He’s probably trying to make out with her in one of the towers.” 

The couple exchanged puzzled glances. Last they checked, Peony was definitely alone, having just ‘rescued’ Jaune and Weiss from the dungeons. Ruby had in fact asked where Dove was, but the flower girl never answered.

“Well,” Jaune began to lead the way back where they came. “Good luck.” 

They left the trio with that, and as they disappeared behind the corner, a thump and a lot of obscene language chased after them as Cardin finally lost his battle.

Many twists and turns and Jaune getting whacked in the face by a branch later, they found the one CRL were looking for. Dove looked hopelessly lost, a short boy surrounded by looming green walls. He zigzagged down the path, looking frantically between the two hedges as if they were closing in on him. 

Upon slowing to a stop, it was Pyrrha that called out to him, “Dove, are you alright?” Unforgiven as he was, she could at least be more civil towards him than to his intolerable leader.

Hearing Pyrrha’s voice, the stout boy jumped, shrieking. “What the hell are you two doing?!” he cried, voice hilariously high-pitched. He coughed, tried to repeat himself in a more manly tone, and sounded just as mouse-like as before.

Trying not to laugh, Pyrrha replied, “We’re trying to get to the middle. What are _you_ doing here – _alone?”_

Gulping, Dove recoiled back into his nervous, hedge-dwarfed demeanour, hugging his arms across his chest. “Peony wanted to explore the ruins on her own for a while. She told me to go to the maze in the meantime.”

Jaune tried not to smirk. _“Explore the ruins” indeed._

“Well, she was definitely at the castle, last we checked,” Pyrrha offered with a strained smile. “In fact, I’ll bet she’s done, erm, _exploring_ now. Maybe she’s come to the maze to look for you?”

Dove’s eyes widened in hope, revealing their rarely seen bronze colour. His entire being brightened at the suggestion, from his smile to his arms dropping to his sides and chest puffing out. “Really? In the maze? Now? Th-then how can I find her?”

It was Jaune who answered, with an insouciant shrug, “Climb.”

They backed down the path once more to take a different route, leaving Dove to fix one of the hedges with a hard stare. Climbing up was difficult given his size, but persistence and the thought of his beloved flower girl drove him on, ignoring any cuts and bruises he received. He reached the top, stood squarely on the top of the bush, and punched the air in triumph. Sadly the force of his celebrant display pushed his body downwards, causing him to sink right into the foliage. He screamed as he was stopped by a large branch to the crotch. He was now up to his middle in leaves, a new type of stuck in the labyrinth.

 

From their post on the castle’s tallest tower, Ren and Nora watched the various mishaps in the maze unfold. While Nora spectated from the stone ‘throne’ she’d found in one of the other towers, Ren leant on the battlements, watching intently, altogether glad that his childhood friend was content with conquering towers and nothing more; the one in the maze’s centre was “too small”. 

They saw Ruby and Weiss entre the sea of green, the archway being just below the two spectators. Sometimes the odd cloud of rose petals would poof amongst the greenery, followed by Weiss’s yells.

They gasped at Yang’s roar from somewhere to the left, followed by the hedges violently rippling and swaying as they were torn down. Blake hopped from one top to the next, shouting in vain to calm her down. Yang later burst from the last hedge, and broke into a fit of anger over the state of her hair – bushier than the hedges.

They giggled at Sun darting over the paths like a skimming stone, executing flips and somersaults. Neptune followed, his inexperience showing as he stumbled and refused to perform any kind of acrobatics.

They laughed at Russell Thrush’s head peeking over on hedge, then disappearing as he and whoever he was giving him a boost clearly fell. 

They chortled again when Dove Bronzewing somehow climbed up the bush, only to sink into it, half a boy now flailing uselessly, swallowed by green.

And they groaned as Peony sashayed under the archway entrance, gripping what looked like a sheet of paper in one hand. Once inside the maze, she glanced at it, and took the first right, disappearing.

“I wonder what she’s up to,” Ren murmured.

Blissfully nonchalant, Nora swung herself off the throne to join her friend at the wall. “Well if she does anything to Pyrrha, or Jaune, or anyone, I could just break her legs, right?”

Chuckling, Ren let her have that. “Right.”

They spotted Peony again a short while later; a pink smudge on the maze’s viewing platform. In the space of a few minutes, she had reached the middle and ascended the lonely tower.

“What?” Nora’s mouth hung open. _“How?_ How did she not get lost?”

Ren gritted his teeth. “She must have had a map or something,” he mumbled. It would make sense, answering what that paper she held was. A map, written instructions on getting to the centre, anything to help cheat her way through.

 

It had all been rather easy.

A few flutters of her lashes and flicks of her hair got Dove to surrender the maze map he’d downloaded prior to the field trip. After following it closely, Peony now stood regally on the viewing tower, the vast expanse of twisting green stretching before her like her very own kingdom. She could see the paths snaking in all directions, and the tops of its prisoners’ heads bobbing amongst the bushes. 

Now her second plan could commence. Not plan B exactly, as she’d intended on using it all along, no matter how well the dungeon plan went. Hopefully this one would go a little better.

She scanned the area, scoffing when Sun or Neptune leapt across her view. She almost crumpled with laughter at Dove’s flailing middle, and pretended not to hear him when he called her for help. At last, her target was acquired; the top of Jaune’s sunny yellow mop and Pyrrha’s fiery red locks cutting down a path to the right of her – a very off course path if it was the middle they were heading towards. Which it would be, it _had_ to be.

Peony leaned over the rail and let her voice ring over the maze like a bell, _“Jaauuuunnneee!_ Yoo-hoo! Over here!”

The yellow and the red halted, turned as they glanced at one another, and then carried on walking.

“Jaune! Up here, Jaune! _Jaauuuunnneee!”_ When this received no reaction, Peony moved onto another tactic. “Pyrrha! _Pyyyyyrrrrhhaaaaaaaaa!_ Both of you look up this way!”

They stopped again, exchanged more glances, murmuring, before _finally_ looking her way.

“Great!” Peony smiled at them, though she was doubtful they could see it. “Are you trying to reach the middle?”

Jaune’s voice bellowed back, “WHAT?”

She cupped her hands around her mouth. “ARE YOU TRYING TO GET TO THE MIDDLE?”

“YES, WHY?”

“BECAUSE I CAN HELP YOU!”

“OH, _REALLY?”_

“YEAH! I’LL TELL YOU BOTH WHERE TO GO AND YOU’LL GET HERE IN NO TIME!”

“HOW DO WE KNOW YOU’RE NOT SCREWING WITH US?”

Peony pouted. “OH, COME ON, JAUNE! I JUST RESCUED YOU AND ICE QUEEN – I MEAN, WEISS – FROM THE DUNGEONS. I’M FEELING GRACIOUS TODAY, SO…”

The couple looked at each other again, seemingly to discuss the matter. Finally, Jaune shouted their verdict, “FINE.”

“OK, NOW FIRST KEEP GOING DOWN THAT PATH AND TAKE A LEFT. NO, NO, _YOUR_ LEFT…NOW RIGHT…AND RIGHT AGAIN…”

Under Peony’s instructions, the two snaked down the prescribed paths with little of an argument, becoming increasingly willing to follow her advice when they weren’t led to a single dead end. All seemed to be going well, unbeknownst to them that from her perch on the viewing tower, the cogs in Peony’s brain were whirring. She couldn’t just lead them both to the tower, no sir. Not at the same time at the very least. Together they were stronger than ten ursai. Alone, not so.

This was the part of the plan she’d been most worried about. She could feign confusion over paths, and lead them down separate ones. Then while Pyrrha remained hopelessly lost, Jaune would be the one to reach the middle, and the rest of the plan would accelerate from there. But now she thought more about it, would that really work? Would they seriously believe that she was confused over the paths? Knowing Jaune, he would cynically insist that he and Pyrrha investigate both together.

That was why it was very fortunate that Yang had been on scene. The blond and the redhead had reached the path of destruction she had created; a straight line of torn down hedges and even some scorched leaves, leading right out of the maze. At least that particular route had been made a little easier.

Jaune’s voice rose over the bushes, “WHAT DO WE DO NOW?”

Scanning the area, Peony knew precisely what they had to do and which way they had to go. But they didn’t need to know that, and the destroyed hedges made the perfect excuse. It was as if the heavens supported her Jaune crusade; all the more reason to keep on fighting.

“I…I DON’T KNOW,” she shouted back. “THE HEDGES ARE ALL RUINED AND I CANT TELL WHICH PATH IS WHICH! THERE ARE SEVERAL ROUTES WHICH YOU COULD TAKE, BUT I DON’T ACTUALLY KNOW WHICH ONE WILL TAKE YOU TO THE MIDDLE.” She took a deep breath. Now for the difficult part of her plan. “WHICH IS WHY I SUGGEST YOU BOTH SPLIT UP AND TAKE DIFFERENT PATHS.”

It was now Pyrrha’s voice which yelled back, “EXCUSE ME?”

“NO, NO, NOT LIKE THAT. I MEAN LITERALLY TAKE A SEPARATE PATH EACH. I’LL GUIDE YOU BOTH THE BEST I CAN, AND WHOEVER REACHES THE MIDDLE CAN GUIDE THE OTHER HERE. WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

She watched as the tops of the couple’s heads turned to each other again, no doubt debating what to do. This was the longest discussion they had had yet whilst following Peony’s honest advice. The flower girl’s hands squeezed into fists. If Pyrrha poisoned Jaune against her brilliant idea, she swore she would–

“OK, WE’LL DO IT!”

Jaune’s voice, and Peony clapped in delight.

“WONDERFUL! CHOOSE YOUR PATHS AND WE CAN BEGIN.”

Jaune and Pyrrha shared a quick kiss goodbye before readying themselves at their chosen paths. It was a little difficult distributing two people with a different set of instructions at the same time, as Peony discovered.

“JAUNE, TAKE THE NEXT RIGHT AND KEEP GOUNG FORWARD. NOW LEFT. OK, GO STRAIGHT AHEAD, PYRRHA. NO, NOT YOU, JAUNE, STAY WHERE YOU ARE. NO, NO, NO GO BACK TO WHERE YOU WERE. YES, THERE. PYRRHA, YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR AHEAD!”

It took at least ten minutes before any proper results were yielded. Peony’s voice was hoarse and throat dry from the shouting, but when one of the teens was spat out of the hedges and into the centre, she grinned wickedly.

Pyrrha waved at her from the ground before disappearing into the tower. Jaune remained lost in the maze, begging for help.

“DON’T WORRY, JAUNE!” Peony called out to him. “PYRRHA’S HERE NOW, SHE CAN HELP YOU!”

“PYRRHA’S IN THE MIDDLE?”

“YES!”

Yes indeed, it was Pyrrha who made it to the viewing platform first, not Jaune. But that too was part of the grand master plan of Peony Bloom.

Booming footsteps spiralled up the inside of the tower, and the tall warrioress was at the top, panting slightly. Peony turned to her, offering her friendliest smile.

“He’s over there.” She pointed at a vague spot in the maze, and Pyrrha gingerly approached the wall, giving her nemesis a small but thankful smile of her own. 

Jaune’s flaxen hair peeked out through the green like a dandelion on the lawn, not too far from his destination. He jolted and turned as Pyrrha’s rich tones rang over to him, loud and clear, “JAUNE! IT’S ALRIGHT, I’M AT THE MIDDLE!” She waved both arms for emphasis, and Jaune’s own hand emerged from the hedges to wave back.

He shouted, “OK, PYRRHA, DON’T WORRY! I’M COMING!” Brashness mixed with hope, he broke into a run in what he thought was the right direction.

“JAUNE, WAIT!” Pyrrha shouted. “GO BACK AND TAKE THAT PATH THERE. THAT’S IT! NOW RIGHT!”

With his girlfriend acting as his guide, Jaune took the advised routes with more zest and enthusiasm than before, treating each step as a step closer to them being reunited. He could get a little overexcited at times, taking a path ahead of being told what to do next, and getting lost again as a result. Now he seemed to be going around in circles, at times only one hedge separating him from the centre. 

Peony leaned on the wall, inspecting her nails. “I think you should go down and help him. He’s not that far away now.”

Surveying the area, Pyrrha nodded and agreed, “Perhaps you’re right.” She could see which way to go in order to reach him, so it shouldn’t be too hard. She bolted back down the steps and sprinted across towards the path…

“Pyrrha, stop!”

She turned, gazing up at Peony. “What?”

The flower girl pointed at the opening to the right of her. “It’s _that_ one.”

Uncertain, Pyrrha glanced between the two. She hadn’t counted how many openings there were in total, but she had been _sure_ it was this one, it was closer to where Jaune was. Then again, mazes were never that simple. Perhaps the opening furthest away from him would in fact lead to him?

“You’d better be right, Peony!”

“Of course I’m right! Now go and find him, he’s waiting for you!”

And thus, the redhead was swallowed by green, running down the completely wrong path.

Just as her footsteps disappeared, Jaune had finally made it to the middle. After cheering and performing a celebratory cartwheel, the boy eagerly sprinted to the tower, unaware that his girlfriend would not be there.

Peony watched him right until he was inside and his footsteps pattered up the stairs. Pyrrha was now lost and bleating for her lover, out of the way. Now the climax of the plan could ensue.

Her lips curled into a smug grin when Jaune’s panting breaths wheezed behind her. She span on her heel, sighing at his tall frame leaning against the wall as he rested from running to the middle, to her. 

Realising that she was looking at him, he quickly recovered, pushing himself off the wall and eyes hardening to pebbles. “Where’s Pyrrha?”

“She went down to guide you through that tricky part, only I’ll bet she’s gotten herself lost.”

Sighing, he made a move past her. “Alright, Peony, thanks a lot for that. I’ll take over from here.”

He halted as she put her hands out in front of him. He was too chivalrous to push past, but refused to make eye contact with her.

“I thought we could talk,” she said.

Jaune’s shoulders sagged. Of course. She’d led him here, alone, so they could talk, alone.

“About what?”

“You and me. Just here me out, then you can call your ‘girlfriend’.” She spat that word, before raising her chin and squaring her shoulders. _“Look_ at me, Jaune.”

He looked. 

“I’m beautiful,” she declared, propping her hands on her hips and lifting one knee in a seductive manner. “Small and slim, but curvy. Puberty was kind to me; I’m hairless, a B cup, tiny waist, generous hips.” She ran her hands down her body, hips swaying. “And I’m beautiful on the _inside_ too.”

Jaune supressed a laugh. He bit his lip to tame his amused smile.

“I let my teammates borrow my makeup – from time to time,” she added. “I have a natural talent with plants. Haven’t you _seen_ what I’ve done with the Beacon gardens? All volunteer work! My ideas, my hard work, my precious time sacrificed, and it’s not even for my own school!”

Shrugging, Jaune admitted to himself that she had indeed done a very good job with Beacon’s gardens. But that didn’t change who she was as a person. She was still the “flower bitch”.

“And there’s _proof_ of my inner and outer beauty! Other boys have been _pining_ for me – really, you have no idea what you’re missing out on! You don’t know how _lucky_ you were to have me!”

_If I was ‘lucky’ to have you then, I must be must be the luckiest guy in the history of mankind to have Pyrrha now._

“Many boys would love to have the opportunity to take me out some time – like Dove.”

_Yes, well, Dove’s an idiot._

“But quite frankly, they’re not worthy of me…”

_Are you for real?_

“…but you, Jaune, are.” Like a tiger, she pounced, catching him unawares and tackling him to the ground. In his second of dazedness, Peony had managed to straddle him. He tried to struggle free, but she pushed his shoulders down.

He glared up at her. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Brown curls cascaded over him, framing Peony’s simpering face. “You and me, Jaune. Right here, right now. Then you’ll realise how blind you’ve been.”

It dawned on him what she was implying, terrifying and horrible.

_“Public sex?!”_

Squirming under her surprisingly strong grip, he reached up to wrench her hands away, but she caught them and planted them firmly on her breasts, squeezing, moaning sharply. Black and gooey guilt pooled in Jaune’s stomach. Did this class as cheating, even though it was against his will? While she hung her head back in pleasure, he took the opportunity to snatch his hands back and begin wriggling away. But she was quick to capture him again, pressing herself onto his crotch and entrapping his wrists on either side.

Her eyes hardened. “Don’t resist, I’m giving this gift to you. I’m a virgin, so it’ll feel nicer for you, right?”

“I have no fucking clue!” he spat back.

“Sure it will! I’m wet but tight. But I’ll be fine so long as it’s with you.” She began rubbing herself against him, grinning as she felt some kind of response within his jeans. “See? You’re getting turned on!”

“Against my will!” 

It didn’t take much for him to get hard sometimes. Even just talking about sex could stir him. His father had warned him once that when men are younger, arousal is a lot easier to achieve than when they’re older – which really didn’t help matters right now.

“Seriously, Peony!” Jaune snapped, writhing beneath her. “Let me go!”

“Fuck sakes, Jaune, you want this.” 

Her hand slithered between her bucking legs, down to his crotch. His freed hand tried to stop her, but it was too late; she made contact with something long and hard, causing an instant reaction. Panic mixed with instinct, Jaune’s entire body jolted and his arms shot up, launching her off him. She fell flat on her back with a squeal while he leapt to his feet, arms hugged across his chest as if he felt exposed enough. He stared down at her, reddened with anger and shame. He hadn’t wanted to hit her, but what else could he do? 

Peony gaped back up at him, horror flooded across her features. Her body burned where he’d struck her, and her back ached from the hard landing. Aunt Primrose was right: he _was_ poisoned against her! As the days passed, more of Pyrrha had ravaged through him like a parasite. Only _she_ would react so violently.

“I have to go,” Jaune mumbled before briskly turning away – and coming face to face with Ruby.

Rose petals floated around her from her Semblance activating mere moments ago, explaining why she’d arrived so soundlessly. Her eyes were wide as the moon, mouth agape, not quite comprehending what she’d seen.

Slipping past her, Jaune patted her arm to signal for her to follow. He raced down the steps as fast as his legs could carry him.

Ruby’s voice rang behind him, “What the heck just happened?” She joined him at the bottom of the tower, as flustered as he. “I reached the middle, heard you yell “public sex”, and went up there and…”

Jaune wheeled on her, flushed and eyes flashing. “What exactly did you see?”

“I-I saw you push her off of yourself. I didn’t see much but it looked like she was…sitting on you, or something. In any case, it was a good push, she deserved it.”

“Mm,” Jaune grunted, deciding that she didn’t quite understand the implications of what she’d seen. 

But she had to ask, “What _was_ she doing?”

Gripping her shoulders, Jaune stared right into her eyes, deathly serious. Denying anything happened would arouse suspicion. “Don’t you repeat this to anyone, let me tell them myself. Promise?”

“Promise.” Ruby held up her pinkie, and Jaune’s twisted around it, locking her oath.

“Ok, well…Peony just tried to have sex with me.”

At first, he received a blank stare, and then, “But she was sitting on you. Doesn’t it have to be the other way around? You know, the guy on top?”

Sighing, Jaune shook his blond mop. The girl would be sixteen soon enough, someone needed to explain to her. In fact, it was a miracle she was so innocent given that she had Yang as a sister.

“It can be done in a whole variety of positions – including the one you just saw there.”

“But you weren’t naked.”

“I expect our necessary organs would have been soon enough had I not hit her.”

“And it was a good hit.”

“Thank you, but that’s not what’s important.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, in case Peony was listening from above. “What’s important is that it could happen again. She isn’t going to leave me alone, or anyone for that matter.” His fingertips dug into her arms. “So we’ll all be in this together: me, you, Pyrrha, all eight or twelve or however many there are involved.” 

The caped girl’s brows knitted into a frown. “Team CRDL as well?”

“No, fuck team CRDL, they’re all dicks.”

“Jaune, you’re swearing…”

“I know, but my mom’s not here and I only swear when angry.”

“Wait!” Ruby’s eyes lit up as an idea struck, yet another lightbulb illuminating. Pyrrha probably wouldn’t approve of it, but this wasn’t Pyrrha. For more guaranteed privacy, she grabbed his arm and hurriedly led him outside. They moved to the back of the tower so that no one could eavesdrop from the door. 

She continued, voice low enough to be inscrutable for anyone listening from the top of the building, “Can my team _please_ exact revenge on her?”

Jaune withdrew now, arching an eyebrow. “Would this be from the notorious prank list Pyrrha told – or rather, _warned_ – me about?”

Ruby’s face fell, the lightbulb in her head shattering. “Yes. You don’t want us to do it, do you?”

“Well, given that team POPI aren’t your biggest fans, start off with something small. Don’t go all out – yet.”

A devious smile spread across the girl’s face. “Gotcha. And you certainly shouldn’t be left alone with _her_ anymore. And are you going to tell Pyrrha about what happened?”

“Yes, and me alone.”

“Ok.” Ruby raised her eyes to the top of the tower, making an “I’m watching you” gesture with her fingers as if Peony was glaring down at them. “Look out, Peony Bloom. We’re coming for you – again!”

__________________________________________________________________________________________  
I'M BACK, BABY. 

Sorry for a month of inactivity, exams are bitches. In fact, I've got more of them over the next month or so, but since I'm off school now I should have a little more time. So if I can't do consistent weekly updates until July, you know why. 

In any case, it's very flattering when you lot ask when the next update will be; I'd keep on writing this regardless of how much people liked it because I'm enjoying writing this as much as you're enjoying reading it. My work being liked is an added bonus, so thank you everyone. You're all awesome. 

I'll make it up to you with yet more chapters, and I promise you, some more crazy shit will be going down! 


	22. The Bravest of Them All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha is very angry. She also has a certain fear that rarely comes to light until now. In other news, Peony continues to 'save the day' before deciding that throwing herself in damsel in distress position will be the perfect sympathy-puller.

No one ever imagined that Pyrrha could get so angry with one person. Her rage at Peony radiated through every action, from slamming her tray down on the table at breakfast to her overly aggressive strikes during combat, which forced Goodwitch to end the match early just so the poor opponents could at least _crawl_ away.

Jaune had been open and honest when he told her about the incident in the viewing tower. As much as Pyrrha appreciated them being close enough for him to repeat such a thing, her mood had not elevated past a brief moment of lucidity whenever her Jaune kissed her.

_How dare she?_

Those words rang in her head, along with horrible fantasies about what had happened, or what _could_ have happened. Her beloved Jaune helplessly crying out as Peony ground into him, laughing, moaning, climaxing… She really had to stop trying to imagine it.

Her locker door nearly dented when she slammed it so hard, she couldn’t talk to anyone without giving brusque, one-worded responses. And the glares she sent Peony halfway across the room were terrifying. Every time she spotted the pink-clad girl, it was like her eyes were pulled to a magnet. Her enraged glower remained trapped on the girl, only tearing away when Peony so much as glanced her way. The desire to punch her smug little face was almost overpowering. Despite failing to ‘win’ Jaune over, she still strutted around like a plush little princess, no doubt planning her next move.

_We’ll be ready._

Sun, Neptune and Yang were placing bets on when Pyrrha would finally snap and do something to Peony. Ruby offered they do that something for her, but received no response. Jaune could get her to calm down temporarily, insisting that he should be the one dealing with the problem, not her. 

In fact, there wasn’t an awful lot they _could_ do; would any of the professors believe that a dainty girl like Peony would try to do something like that to a much larger boy like Jaune? It certainly didn’t help that he had in fact struck her, something she would no doubt use to twist the story in her favour. When Jaune told Pyrrha of how he had reacted violently, the cool, almost emotionless response he received was, “So? I would have hit her harder.”

For all her warring, wrathful attitude, it quickly fell apart that evening when she stepped into her shower. She had reached out to turn it on when she noticed the black, hairy beast lying in wait right by the drain. With a startled squeak, she bolted out, returning half-shaken to her dorm clenching a towel around her otherwise-naked body.

Curving an amused smile, Jaune tried to lighten the mood from the day, “This is becoming quite a regular occurrence, wouldn’t you say?”

Face plunging to bright red, Pyrrha’s arms instinctively wrapped around her chest, unaware that, in Jaune’s eyes, doing so made her look very _appealing._

“I have a problem,” she told him, realising how stupid a confession this would be. “My shower. There’s a…a…”

It wasn’t that she couldn’t even utter the horrid word. It was more how she would look to Jaune, her feeble side exposed once more, a side that only he was allowed to see yet she still had trouble uncovering it.

Jaune watched her, patiently. “A what?”

She swallowed, and said it.

 

“I’ll admit, that’s a pretty big spider.”

Jaune’s voice echoed off the tiles, mingling with the dampness in the air from recently-used cubicles. He crouched down, inspecting the fearsome foe. It was a couple inches wide, its long legs fanned out like a black snowflake. Harmless and innocent enough, just rather unsettling to look at for some.

“Think you can get it out?” Pyrrha asked, flushed with shame at such a request.

“Of course! I’m a spider-catching veteran. My mom and most of my sisters don’t like them either, so someone’s got to do it.” 

He’d brought with him a glass and a slip of paper for the operation. In one swift movement, the upside-down glass entrapped the spider. The paper was slotted beneath, and he picked the whole lot up. The glass was brought the right way up, and the spider captured at the bottom. 

Jaune grinned at his victory. “Take a look. It’s not that scary.”

He brought the glass closer to her, but she craned her head away, squirming a little.

“It’s not that I find them scary,” she confessed. “It’s more that they creep me out a little.”

Jaune frowned. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

Pyrrha blinked, thinking of a way to rephrase it whilst avoiding looking at the beast. “I know they don’t bite, I just don’t like the idea of them crawling up my leg or something.” She gave an involuntary shudder. “They’re big and have too many legs.”

“But…what about deathstalkers? You faced that one just fine on initiation day, and they have eight legs too, and pincers and stingers and… _everything!”_

“But they’re too big to crawl up your leg. Anyway, can get rid of that thing now?”

The spider was chucked out of the window and into the wilderness, leaving Pyrrha free to collect her shower stuff from the cubicle; she certainly wouldn’t be using it when a spider had just been staring up at her from the drain. She chose the cubicle at the other end of the row, walking there with Jaune who forced himself to look straight ahead and not at her towel-clad state.

“Thank you for that,” she mumbled.

He shrugged. “Anytime. I’m the man in the relationship after all; gotta protect my lady.” Almost on impulse, he put an arm around her, hand settling on her bare arm.

She gazed up at him. “You don’t think I’m weak, do you?”

“Of course not! I’ve told you before, you’re one of the strongest and bravest people I know! Even if you were the bravest person in the world, I’d still try to protect you, somehow.”

Flattered, Pyrrha giggled, leaning a head against his shoulder. _See, Peony? He’s MINE, not yours! Mine, not yours. Mine, not yours._

_Oh, shut it, Pyrrha. You’re making yourself no better than her!_

Reaching the cubicle, Jaune’s arm slipped away, and he managed to look at his girlfriend, who offered him a small smile.

“Well, thank you again. I guess I’ll just, er, shower then.” She stopped a moment, as a brief fantasy played out before her. In a perfect world, Jaune would leap into the cubicle with her, wrestle himself out of his clothes while she flung off her towel, and he would take her against the wall, on the floor, _anywhere._ Back in reality, moistness seeped between her legs at the thought. It made her bolder. She smiled at him, coyly. 

“Or you could shower with me.”

The blank, confused look she received shattered her confidence.

“Th-that was a joke!” she spluttered, laughing to cover her embarrassment. “I mean, us, in a shower, at _school?_ Definitely not a good idea!”

“Right,” he said, laughing with her, wondering if she’d meant what he thought she meant by ‘showering’ with her. “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Enjoy your shower, and come get me if any spiders bother you.”

There weren’t any spiders in this cubicle, Pyrrha made sure if that. But once alone and with the hot water pouring over her, the need deep inside her was too much to bear to wait any longer. Before she washed herself, she brought her fingers straight to her nethers, touching, caressing. Shocks rippled through her body, so she inserted two fingers into her vagina and thrust, knowing her body well and understanding exactly what it needed, what _she_ needed. The thought of it being ever closer to Jaune doing this someday sparked more excitement, and the thrusting sped up, massaging increased in pressure, and moans escalated in volume. 

Excited moans.

Moans for Jaune.

Moans that Peony would have expelled during her attempt with him.

The thought tore Pyrrha’s libido to shreds, and she withdrew her fingers, scowling. Without an orgasm, she was sorely unsatisfied, but she was no longer in any mood to continue. So she set about washing herself, now directing her anger at Peony to aggressive squeezes of bottles and tugs of hair.

 

No trace of snow remained the next day, apart from dewy grass and dripping leaves. The Emerald Forest stretched wide and green, a lush canopy hiding prowling Grimm and cautious first year students within. Their objective: defeat ten beowolves in fifty minutes. That time had to be spent wisely as there was the task of locating the beasts and dealing with any other Grimm they encountered. Being split into pairs made the job a little easier.

Slaughtering Grimm was also the perfect way for Pyrrha to vent out her anger. Ten beowolves had been decapitated twenty minutes ago, eight to her, two to Jaune. Their corpses disintegrated behind them as they walked on, Pyrrha marching ahead. She clutched her spear by her side, unsatisfied by the kills she’d already made. She needed more Grimm to slay, more demonic creatures to vent her anger on.

“Pyrrha!” Jaune tried to keep up. He’d already tripped twice. “Please, calm down! You’ll over-stretch yourself and some Grimm will eat you!”

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

“Look, I understand that you’re mad, and I would be too if it was you that…” He didn’t want to think about it. “Anyway, the point is, I’m worried for you. You’re not thinking like you normally do, I can tell by the way you’re fighting!” He gripped her arm, thumb stroking the smooth skin. “By not thinking, you’ll get yourself hurt – or _worse._ I don’t want either of those things.”

His words would soothed her rage and melted her heart had not her new target been acquired. They’d exited the veil of trees and come to a small clearing. A cave deep and dark gaped before them.

Pyrrha adopted a fighting stance. Jaune just gulped, ogling at the very evident danger.

A constellation of glowing red eyes stared back.

“That’s a lot of Grimm,” he murmured, trembling hand reaching for his sword’s hilt.

The many eyes seemed to creep closer, accompanied by heavy steps. As light bathed whatever it was the eyes belonged to, it became apparent that it wasn’t “a lot of Grimm” at all. The tell-tale white and red markings adorned its black abdomen and all eight of its black, spiny legs.

Pyrrha’s scream got caught in her throat. Jaune’s rose over the forest like a banshee.

“Jaune’s in trouble!” Yang alerted as the high-pitched shriek echoed over their heads.

Blake merely shrugged. “He’s got Pyrrha, he’ll be fine.”

But neither Jaune nor Pyrrha were fine. The champion stood rooted to the spot, literally petrified, the colour gone from her face. Her fearless leader had erupted into a panicked babble.

“THAT’S A GIANT SPIDER! WHAT THE FUCK?! SINCE WHEN DID THE EMERALD FOREST HAVE GIANT FUCKING SPIDERS?!”

The spider, easily the size of a deathstalker, snapped its jaws in reply.

Wrenched awake, Pyrrha grabbed Jaune’s arm and made a run for it. “We are SO not facing that thing!” 

They sprinted to the cover of trees, a thundering patter behind them as the spider gave chase. Once in the trees, they were able to weave between the trunks a lot nimbler than their pursuer, but how long could they keep that up for? The spider zigzagged after them, its legs getting tangled in the trees in the process as it was clearly not designed for this environment, but it had another tactic. Raising its abdomen, it shot a generous streak of web into the air, at the retreating figures of Jaune and Pyrrha.

It missed.

The web flew over their heads, landing somewhere amongst the trees. A bloodcurdling screech followed.

“AAAIIIIIIIIII!!!!!! WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS??!!!”

Jaune and Pyrrha skidded to a stop, glancing at their stuck enemy, then at each other.

“Weiss!”

They leapt through the bushes to find Weiss Schnee, cloaked in a glistening, intricate, freshly spun web. It clung to her clothes and her hair, ensnaring her the more she flailed. Ruby stood helplessly by, not quite sure what to do.

“WHAT IS THIS!” the heiress shrieked as she uselessly flapped her arms about. “THIS IS ABSOLUTELY _DISGUSTING!_ GET IT OFF OF ME _RIGHT NOW!”_ In her fit of revulsion, she caught sight of her panting audience. “You two! What are you doing here? See this, this, this whatever the hell this is? It just landed on me like…like _bird shit!_ Yes, I’m swearing now, don’t look at me like that!”

Ruby showed a little more concern for her friends. “Are you ok, Pyrrha? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Paled to white and sweating, Pyrrha pointed dramatically at the direction she and Jaune had just come. “There is a…a…spi…”

“A spider?” the caped girl helped.

“A _giant_ spider,” Jaune clarified, panting and holding his knees as he panted.

Weiss scoffed, clearly unamused, “What do you mean a “giant spider”?”

“I think they mean a spider that’s giant,” her companion murmured, and her silver eyes lit up. “A _gigantic_ spider? Ohhh man, that is so _cool!_ Where is it?”

While she tried to peek behind the bushes, Pyrrha caught hold of her cloak to stop her. Weiss, meanwhile, almost vomited as realisation struck.

“YOU MEAN THAT THIS STUFF ON ME IS A GIANT SPIDER’S WEB?!”

It needed no answer. In any case, she never received one as they hushed to silence as a series of stabs in the earth barrelled towards them. Trees bent aside as the colossal arachnid presented itself, front forelegs raised, blaring a horrific battle cry.

Everyone screamed till their lungs almost bled. Except Pyrrha, who fainted.

Jaune leapt to his girlfriend’s side, holding her unconscious body close. He tried to recreate the protective burst of aura that had manifested once in Forever Fall, trying to remember how it had happened. How _did_ it happen?

At the same time, Weiss couldn’t move either. The web had wrapped around her legs and she rolled onto the ground like a lacy napkin. Ruby drew her scythe, at first to try and cut though the web, then after her partner’s shouts of protest, deciding to take on the beast herself. Hoisting the weapon behind her, she fired, the recoil sending her flying towards the monster’s…

“ARGH!”

…jaws.

One of the barbed jaws caught her leg while the spider’s front leg batted at her. She shot the gun again, flying off in a flash of petals, landing in a clumsy heap beside her partner. She clutched her shin, grimacing, knowing full well that it weren’t for her Aura it would have been severed.

Panicking now, Weiss writhed in the webs, screaming. Ruby tried to help, her hands getting tangled in the process. Jaune pleaded Pyrrha awake, the red-haired girl drifting back into consciousness for a brief moment before seeing the spider, and passing out again.

The boy couldn’t watch as the spider bore down on them. He held Pyrrha tighter than before. This was it, they were going to die. He pressed his mouth against her ear, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him – both out of the noise of the monster’s steps and her being unconscious.

“Pyrrha, I love–”

A shot, a slash and the beast screaming once more, this time in anguish. 

Then a thud.

Weiss screeched again, Ruby gaped, Jaune looked up. 

One giant leg laid on the ground before them, severed yet twitching as it slowly died. The spider itself writhed, blood spurting out of the join where the leg once was. 

Peony readied her fans again. She opened fire, a barrage of pink bullets raining on the beast. Most bounced off its armour, some pierced the skin, but not enough to be lethal. Enraged by the pain, the spider swept at her with one of its remaining legs. Peony leapt black, flipping in the process, already shooting again before she even landed. Another leg swung, she leapt, another came at her before she reached the ground. The leg struck, she flew into a tree, screaming.

Its most troublesome customer out of the way, the Grimm turned its attention back to the four teens. Two were trapped by the sticky web. One had fainted a third time now, held onto by the other. Easy pickings.

It raised one leg, ready to skewer Jaune. It came spearing down.

And hit something hard as rock. A purple shockwave rippled from the strike.

Glynda Goodwitch stood behind the stricken teens, riding crop raised at the Grimm, her face a thunder cloud. With a swipe of her crop, purple darts arched through the air, exploding upon impact with Grimm armour or flesh. Blood poured out of fresh wounds, another decapitated leg fell to the ground. The spider took the hint and fled, disorientated by its decreased number of legs as it fumbled around the forest. Clumsy and frightened, it crashed into several trees before it finally disappeared.

Three sets of lungs expelled a sigh of relief. All eyes turned to their saviour. Professor Goodwitch pushed her glasses to the bridge of her nose.

“Is everyone alright?”

Ruby and Jaune nodded. Weiss wailed about the sticky web. Goodwitch regarded the unconscious Pyrrha with concern.

“What happened to Miss Nikos?”

“She fainted,” Jaune glumly replied. “She, er, doesn’t deal well with spiders.”

“An arachnophobic huntress-to-be? That’s something we’ll have to beat out of her.”

“What _was_ that thing anyway?” Ruby asked, intrigued rather than terrified like most fifteen-year-old girls would be.

“It’s called an arachnebite. What it’s doing in the Emerald Forest I have no idea. In any case, it’s much too high level for first years.” Goodwitch waved her crop over Weiss, and the webs slowly loosened. The heiress wriggled free, brushing herself down of any stray webs. She ran her hands through her ponytail, muttering how she was going to need a _very_ long shower.

“As such,” Goodwitch went on, “today’s mission will be aborted immediately.” 

Ruby moaned, Weiss thanked every celestial being for the news, Jaune had no time to react as Pyrrha was coming round once more.

White and sweating, her green eyes slowly peeled open. She brought a trembling hand to her head. Her voice was barely a whisper, “Is it gone now?”

Jaune nodded with a grin. “Yeah, it’s gone, it won’t be coming back, and we’re returning to Beacon now.”

“Thank the gods,” she mumbled, and tried to sit up in his lap. He placed a hand on her back to steady her, before pulling her in close as a way to comfort them both.

“So,” he said, and tried to place his next words carefully. “You have arachnophobia.”

Pyrrha winced. _Phobia._ From _phobos._ In one of the tongues of ancient Mistral: _fear._

“I…I know I said that I didn’t like smaller…creatures.” No, she didn’t want to say the word even more. “But that thing…its _legs!”_ She shivered in revulsion. Thankfully for her, the two decapitated legs had now fully disintegrated into black fumes.

Behind them, Goodwitch was busy contacting every first year students’ scrolls bar the ones of the four present with her. The melodic beeps of a received message twittered in the air, high above them. Peony was still stuck in the tree, probably knocked out.

Normally caring for everyone, even those he hated, for once Jaune felt quite indifferent about her condition. If anything, he was relieved that she was out cold; imagine, her bragging about how she sliced off an arachnebite’s leg while Pyrrha fainted in fear at the sight of the beast! They really didn’t need to hear that right now.

“Sooo…” Ruby rubbed her hands together. “Since this all ended early, what should we do for the rest of the lesson?”

Weiss promptly reminded her of the shower.

“I meant _after_ you’ve done that,” the caped girl sighed.

When they regrouped, it was Nora who had the answer.

 

Only Blake objected to Nora’s idea. Being a cat faunus, there was an inbred discomfort over certain things – the most famous being water. So when Nora cheerily declared that they should go to the pool, Blake tried to give them reasons as to why it was a bad idea.

“It’s actually quite unsanitary.”

“No it’s not, otherwise we wouldn’t _have_ one.”

“We could get a verruca.”

“That’s unlikely, but even if we did, there’re creams for that.”

“Someone could _drown!”_

By now, Nora dropped her cheerful attitude and lowered her voice to thunder. “Blake, we get it. You’re a cat. You don’t like water.”

Yang patted her raven-haired friend’s shoulder. “Just sit on the side with a book or something. You don’t _have_ to go in.”

The mention of books sweetened the idea, though Blake reminded them all that if they got her book even a _little_ wet, they had to pay her hefty compensation.

That was why, after changing, Blake was ordered to sit with her book at the shallow end of Beacon’s pool. The faunus had no objections to that; at least in the shallow end, one didn’t have to swim if they fell in.

Nora was first in the pool, cannonballing into the water. Most of the others jumped or dived in after her, while Weiss descended the steps and calmly breast stroked across the pool’s width. She had arrived a little later than the others after a rather pedantic shower. Her hair, now glossy and purified from the webs, was piled atop her head as she tried not to get it wet again.

While she and Blake tried to spend a tranquil afternoon in or by the water, all sorts of chaos erupted in the deep end. Sun had initiated a heated water fight which many retired from after Scarlet tried ducking their heads under the water. Ruby started a “who-can-jump-the-furthest-and-coollest-into-the-pool-or-whatever” competition, in which she ended up being disqualified for using her Semblance mid-jump to land somewhere near the shallow end. Most of the others performed backflips, even Jaune surprised them with a somersault, Nora cannonballed again, Neptune executed a _spinning_ dive.

From her end of the pool, Weiss watched her lover in fascinated awe. His exquisitely toned body, his physical fitness, his coolness…he was a _god!_ And she had done well to choose him.

With the twelve having the pool to themselves, all was pleasant. Those who faced the arachnebite ordeal seemed to have forgotten all about it, including Pyrrha. She was now performing underwater handstands, the muffled laughter of her friends on the surface fuzzing above her. Her handstand broke when she felt a hand grip her ankle. Opening her eyes, the blurred image of Jaune rippled before her, his blond hair clouded around his head like a halo. He grinned at her, and closed in plant a kiss on her lips.

It was strange how different underwater kisses were to normal ones. It was more a touch of the lips than a kiss, the water almost diluting it in a strange way. Even so, it was a romantic gesture, made even more so when Jaune’s hands gripped her waist. If they were alone in the pool, she probably would have invited him to touch her in other places. But even then, no one could go without oxygen for too long; Pyrrha tapped his shoulder and propelled her body up to the light. They resurfaced together, gasping at the cool air fresh in their lungs, and wiping the sting of the water from their eyes.

As soon as his flaxen head had reappeared, Sun called for him to perform his somersault again. Pleased at the attention of his newfound acrobatics, Jaune obliged with a grin and heaved himself onto the poolside.

Just as he did so, a thirteenth person swanned onto the scene. At first, Peony remained unnoticed. Normally an attention-seeker, for once she didn’t mind; it gave her more time to watch Jaune as he rose to his full height, everything on display.

She stared. Having never actually seen Jaune topless before, this was a sight she’d been looking forward to for a long time. Water rippled down his reasonably toned body, muscle that was neither too big nor too small. His arms, shoulders and chest showed the most of his fitness, while the beginnings of abs were peeking through. The water gave his skin a glossy effect, and had flattened his thick hair against his scalp somewhat. He shook his head, and the hair came free, sticking out in messy, sodden spikes. 

Subconsciously, Peony licked her lips. 

_He was perfect._

While her eyes were glued on Jaune, Pyrrha had noticed the arrival of her enemy. The anger re-emerged, along with cold, constricting feeling in her gut. Peony was adorned in a pink bikini, embellished with lacy flowers. Her breasts were pushed up and a very generous amount of lower abdomen were on show from her tiny bikini bottoms. Pyrrha was willing to bet that they showed off much of her backside as well; she hoped she wouldn’t turn around.

Even more so, the redhead began to feel quite inadequate. All the other girls donned bikinis – with the exception of Ruby’s tankini – while she was in a swimming costume. With its halter neck, it did display her back quite nicely, but now she wished she was showing off her own stomach a bit. Not for Jaune, but as a statement to Peony. _This is what I look like, marvel at it, now eff off._

Jaune’s somersault snatched her attention. It was loose and slow, his body not curling up completely, but it was a somersault none the less. He landed feet first, water spraying over Pyrrha.

Peony tittered quietly at that. Then stopped when a resurfaced Jaune cut across the water snuggle beside her tall, flame-haired nemesis. It was time for another of Peony Bloom’s grand master plans.

Rescuing her beloved hadn’t worked. The school gardens, the castle, the maze, even a giant Grimm, nothing had earned respect, let alone infatuation. And Dove didn’t count, he was an idiot. Aunt Primrose had told her “If saving them doesn’t work, immediately follow with yourself needing a hero. I’m sure heartstrings will be pulled then.”

So that’s what Peony did. Wordlessly, she dipped into the pool and swam across the length, a gentle breast stroke. By now everyone had noticed her, but said nothing. They would leave her alone if she left them. Jaune had his back turned as he cavorted with Pyrrha.

As she slowly completed a couple of lengths, Peony kept a watchful eye on him. He and Pyrrha disappeared under the water a few times, only to reappear moments later, giggling. Jaune gave Nora and Ruby piggybacks, then there was a piggyback race; Neptune won with Sun on his back, who whooped like a cowboy. Jaune jumped another somersault, flung Nora into the water, who then avenged herself by pushing him in. When he had returned to bobbing a little too close to Pyrrha, Peony put her plan into action.

She was in the deep end, relatively close to the blond boy. She trod water, clutched her side and screamed.

“Owww! Oh no! Oh no! Somebody help me!” She disappeared beneath the surface, then re-emerged, coughing and spluttering. “I’ve got a cramp! I can’t move!” She struggled to keep her head above the water, her arms flailing uselessly as she screamed and coughed some more.

Alerted, several others swam towards her, including Jaune and Pyrrha. Though they weren’t sure if this was real, they intended to help nonetheless, just in case. 

Peony tried not to grin as her target came closer. She sank under the water, and subtly pushed herself in his direction, resurfacing every so often. Soon, she would be in his arms, the poor damsel who needed the love and care that only he could provide…

A pair of strong arms wrenched her back up and away from her target. She was so surprised that she choked on the water and writhed as a genuine coughing fit took over her. All she could see was blue hair and yellow eyes – or goggles.

_Damn it._

Neptune carried her across to the poolside, where Blake and Yang helped pull her out. They sat the flower girl up and thumped her back to help her cough up the water. This Yang did a little more violently than she had to, mostly out of revenge for everything she’d put them through.

“Oh god,” Peony moaned, then coughed. “Oh god, oh god, *cough*. I think I…*cough cough* I think I nearly drowned!”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Yang muttered, giving her back another powerful thump.

“I could have _died!”_ Peony went on, coughing some more. The choked feeling was receding, but her throat did feel a little sore now. “Ohh, I think I’m going to be sick!”

“Want us to take you to the bathroom?” Blake asked.

“Um…no, no, actually I think I’ll be fine.” If anyone was taking her to the bathroom, it would be Jaune. But he was still in the pool, watching.

“I think you should get dried,” Neptune suggested. “After the shock and everything, you’ll be exposed to hypothermia.”

“But I’m not outside!”

“No, but you’ll still get pretty cold.”

“Ahh…yes.” Gooseflesh had prickled all over her body. For added melodrama, she shivered violently. This Jaune and Pyrrha regarded with particular disdain – she looked like a fish flapping on the shoreline. After the frozen lake experience, they knew that was not what it was supposed to look like.

Jaune leaned in to whisper to his girlfriend, “She’s absolutely fine.”

Pyrrha nodded, and the two decided that they were no longer needed. As they swam away to the other side of the pool, Peony realised that the game was up. Her beloved had been convinced by the red-haired minx not to care! Was there nothing she could do restore his True Feelings?

So she allowed Blake and Yang to hoist her up and try to lead her to the changing rooms. Weiss fluttered around Neptune, calling him a hero, kissing his cheek, all the things that should be happening between Peony and Jaune. Disgruntled, Peony made sure that her foot made contact with Blake’s book as she turned, innocently kicking it into the water.

Seeing her beloved book floating amongst the waves, Blake wailed and jumped after it. Her splash pushed it even further away, and when she resurfaced, she couldn’t even get to it. Having never learnt to swim, she flailed and spluttered, in a more desperate position than Peony had been in. Yang abandoned the flower girl to wrench her friend out. She comforted the sodden, shocked, shivering, coughing Blake on the poolside. Moments later, Sun was there with the ruined book, reassuring her that it could easily be dried. 

Seeing that she was now forgotten, Peony left alone but not unnoticed – the angry slam of a cubicle door made sure of that.

 

_______________________________________________________________________  
If RT don't include a giant spider at some point in RWBY, I'll eat my hair. In any case, I couldn't think of a cool name for it. It had to be arachne- something, after the mythological Arachne. 'Bite' sounded best on the end.

For the chapter title, I kind of worked with the theme of fear and courage. I think English Lit's seeping into me a little too much...

A note on Pyrrha's thoughts on wishing she was in a bikini etc. That's how we girls think, often we'll dress/present ourselves not for boys, but to rival other girls. At least, that's been my experience, not just personally. Apologies to other girls reading this thinking "WTF??".

Anyway, peace out til next time :)


	23. A Side None Can See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha is still tense about how Peony could affect her and Jaune. While some wise words from her "lovable idiot" boyfriend assures her, so do the rest of the events that transpire afterwards.

Blake was promptly rushed away from the poolside; the cat faunus was so stricken by her submersion that she was violently sick in the changing room toilets. She also had water blocked in her cat ears, which didn’t help matters. Yang took her back to their dorm, and were soon followed by the rest of team RWBY. With a third of them gone, and the general atmosphere Peony had clouded over them, it wasn’t long before the others left too. First Jaune and Pyrrha, then Ren and Nora, then SSSN.

After showering and drying, Sun accompanied JNPR back to their dorm, only to see how Blake was in the room opposite. It was Weiss who answered, and brusquely told him that Blake would be fine with some peace and quiet, before shutting the door.

“Well,” Sun breathed, glancing at the amused team. “Did it suddenly get colder in here or what?”

The Ice Queen’s voice snapped through the wall like a howling blizzard, “I HEARD THAT, SUN!”

“Jeez.” The monkey faunus rolled his eyes. “You know, this is all Peony fucking Bloom’s fault.” Content with who he had chosen to blame, he sauntered back down the corridor.

Ren murmured, “You know, I think everyone’s going to start blaming everything on her.” He shrugged. “I have no objections to that.”

Back in their dorm, Pyrrha headed straight for her bed, stony and quiet once more. Her anger remained, not as intense as before, but enough to affect her. Peony had faked the almost-drowning, that much was obvious. She had wanted Jaune to rescue her, just as he had done so long ago when she slipped off that balcony. Thank Oum she’d failed. But she would keep trying, she didn’t care if Jaune didn’t love her; in her twisted mind, he was destined to love her eventually. What happened in the maze clung to Pyrrha’s mind like a parasite, playing mind games with her as she gave it more in-depth thought – at the rate Peony was going, she could well do all sorts of… _things_ with Jaune before his actual girlfriend ever got the chance. And that would make Pyrrha very, very jealous.

Sensing her distress, Jaune sat beside her, murmuring to her as he rubbed her back. Ren watched the scene thoughtfully. The whole team wanted nothing more than for Pyrrha to return to her cheerful self; they’d seen fragments of it returning in the pool. Now it was time for her to return completely.

He cleared his throat. “Would you like us to leave you guys alone for a while?”

Nora looked at him, turquoise eyes shining. “As in, alone alone? _Alooooone?”_

“Whatever ‘alone’ they need.”

Grateful for the suggestion, Jaune nodded. 

“Text me when you’re done then,” said Ren as he led his bubbly friend back out the door. “Come on, Nora. Let’s go to the library or something.”

“Aww not the library! Why don’t we go back to the pool or…” The door shut behind them.

As soon their footsteps faded away, Jaune deemed it safe to start.

“Pyrrha, look at me.”

She didn’t. Her eyes remained fixed on her knees. Her arms hugged her torso. A gentle hand turned her face to his. 

Concern swam in his sapphire eyes. “Pyrrha, you have to stop being so… _angry._ You’re letting her win.” His hands moved down to grip her shoulders. “By letting it get to you, she’s winning.”

A shaky sigh heaved from Pyrrha’s lips. “I’m just worried. I don’t want her to come between us.”

“At this rate she already is.” His face crept closer, voice softening. “I know you’re upset. So am I. But I’m ok because I know that I’m not facing this alone. We’re in this together. Not just you and me, but our whole team as well, and team RWBY, and even SSSN.”

Tears prickled in her eyes. “I’m worried at what she’ll try next.”

“Aren’t we all? She won’t give up, that much is clear. So we won’t give up either. As my mom always says: never give up, never give in.” One hand reached up to cup her face now, his thumb wiping away a tear that had begun to trickle. He smiled, adding almost cheerfully, “Besides, a few more weeks and she’ll be gone. Until then, she _cannot_ get to us. Ok?”

His words like a breeze blowing over a crop field, sweeping down the long stalks enough for route to become clear. 

Pyrrha managed a smile. “Ok.”

Almost simultaneously, their lips were pulled into one another, like magnets. They kissed, as if sealing the deal, and to show her how much she meant to him, Jaune pushed harder, moved faster, becoming a little clumsier. Pyrrha had to pinch him to get him to slow down, before responding with her own moulding movements.

He tried again to show her, by sucking on her top lip and flicking out his tongue, a question, a hint. The answer came in the form of her mouth opening just enough for her own tongue to meet his, the tips curling and dancing, wet and sensitive. By now he was leaning quite far forward with only Pyrrha as his support. He was so deep in the kiss, he wouldn’t have noticed an explosion. She, on the other hand, was ever the alert huntress, and smirked against his mouth as an idea hatched. Holding Jaune’s forearms, she threw herself back on the bed, bringing him down on top. 

“Oof!”

She smiled up at him, satisfied with the outcome. Him landing between her legs rather than across one of them would have been even better, but she was willing to settle for this.  
Blush spilled into his cheeks at their position, but he wasn’t stupid. “You did that on purpose – not that I object.” 

Their lips caressed each other again, this time feeling a lot more intimate, somehow. Perhaps it was because they’d never done anything like this – lying down with one on top of the other. Jaune was particularly affected, as his senses burst alive more alert than ever. The way Pyrrha had ramped up the force and speed of her kissing, the way her arms now slithered all down his arms and back, the fact that she had even pulled him into this position – for once he could read the signs.

She wanted _more._

More what, exactly?

Jaune let his instinct guide him for that.

He pushed himself up to kneeling, revelling in the disappointed look on his girlfriend’s face.

“Excuse me one moment,” he mumbled as he undid the buttons on his blazer. Now she grinned as he stripped the material off and cast it to the floor. As an afterthought, he removed his tie as well.

Meeting Pyrrha’s sparkling eyes, he shrugged.

“I was starting to get a bit hot.”

_And I’m sure we’ll both be getting hotter._

She giggled, “Me too.” 

Moments later, her blazer joined Jaune’s and the tie on the floor. That was soon followed by the vest. The other layers she would leave to him. Whilst she was sitting up, she removed her coronet too, placing it under the bed; she didn’t want her mother watching.

Pulled back in by her strong arms, and his own body willingly pushing down on hers, he was back on top of her, but didn’t kiss her mouth. Confidence surged through his veins, urging him to follow his instinct and not shun it away. That confidence was perhaps a product of his own arousal, his own need. His lips travelled across her cheek, to her temple, behind her ear, triggering a particularly excited moan from her. Jaune grinned, thinking he could certainly do that again in the future. The kisses trailed down to her jawline, dwindling there for a moment, teasing her.

She waited, gripping his hair in one hand and back of is sweater in the other. Her breathing was erratic and pulse rocketed to the point where she swore Jaune would be able to see it. Perhaps that was why he hesitated? Because of her throbbing–

He made the plunge, one strong kiss on her neck, then another, and another. Pyrrha groaned at the sensation, now understanding why the neck seemed to ignite so much passion in movies. Who knew that this part of the body could spark so much bliss when kissed?

Jaune’s mouth, now sometimes accompanied by a caress of the tongue, snailed down her jugular, then up her throat, the vibrations of her moans tickling against his lips. He swept past her pulse, marvelling at its strength, its speed, all because of him. As an experiment, he licked the skin over it. Pyrrha shuddered in response.

The more she clenched him, the sooner she was bored of the rough wool beneath her fingers. And more of Jaune’s buttons needed to be undone – the top one, which was hardly ever done up, just wasn’t enough. Her hands flew down from his hair and his back to grip the hem of his sweater, and pulled.

Much of the shirt came with it, showcasing his bare skin. The sweater reached his chest before Jaune sat up again and took over. With the help of Pyrrha’s lively hands, it was over his head and on the floor. Before he settled back down again, he reached down to pry off his shoes. Agreeing with the idea, Pyrrha did the same.

Now they laid side by side, prompted by Pyrrha so that they could touch more of each other. Jaune’s hand instantly settled on her waist, and stroked down to her hip then back up again, arching in her curve as their lips locked once more and legs entwined. The tights allowed his legs to slide up and down hers, calves against calves, and thighs against thighs. Due to the thinness of the material, Pyrrha could feel it the most, and glorious heat flooded to her lower regions. With her legs occupied, her hands focused on Jaune’s shirt. She tried to undo one button during the kiss, but found that she had to pull away and watch what she was doing. Fingers trembling slightly, the button came undone. More skin came to view. Then the second button. She stopped there, wanting their moment to take as long as possible, for the enjoyment to last. One hand hooked around the back of his neck, massaging that. The other slipped into the shirt to feel his firm, muscular shoulder.

Since she was touching him, Jaune decided to return the favour. His hand on her waist crept to her hip one last time. From there, it slid down to her backside.

Pyrrha’s lips parted mid-kiss to gasp, and then again when he squeezed.

“You’re being very bold,” she said with a laugh.

He cast her a wide-eyed look. “I-I’m sorry! D’you want me to slow down?”

“What? N-no! No, I like this. I mean, I like you er…I like the fact that you’re using your initiative.”

He cocked his head.

“I-I mean… During our spars I show you what to do and you follow. With this, you just go for it, and I like that. It makes a difference as it’s very different from fighting, but…” She breathed in. “What I mean is, you’re not going too fast at all. You’re doing fine.” She cast a tentative look at her hand, hidden within his shirt. “A-am I?” 

“I should think so – it certainly feels nice. But just so you know…” He propped himself up on his elbow to gaze down at her. “This is the closest I’ve gotten with a girl.” Peony on Valentine’s Day didn’t really count. She _was_ in just her underwear, but the only contact he made with her was a hand forced on her breast. It was becoming apparent that whatever was going to happen tonight would be closer than that, and a thousand times more wonderful.

A smile lifted on her lips. The hand on his neck came up to the side of his face. “Me too,” she murmured, then stopped herself. “With a boy I mean. Well, a girl too, I suppose. Anyone.”

“Good. No expectations, no disappointments. For, er, whatever it is we end up doing.”

Their noses touched as her smile turned coy and seductive. “We’ll just let it happen.”

She kissed his lips once, before moving down to his neck, wanting to explore that part with her mouth herself. Kissing it was almost as riveting as being kissed there. This was something Jaune discovered too, as her soft lips glided across his skin, licking his racing pulse as he’d done to her. His hand clenched her butt cheek again, prompting another excited moan on her part. His other arm looped beneath her, hand trailing loosely against her back, now investigating the curious bump beneath her blouse that was her bra fastenings. 

Her lips trailed down to his collar bone, then his chest, finally showering her love on a part of his body she had helped sculpt. As she felt his hand rest on her thigh, ready to slide up and under the skirt, she lifted her leg up further, a silent beg, a clue as to where she wanted him.

Jaune picked up on it, but still felt the need to ask. “Are you sure you want me to keep going? I mean, er, I’d like your official consent before I continue.”

Head rising back to level with his, Pyrrha’s hands cupped his face. “You really don’t need it, but if you insist – yes.” She swallowed, deciding to be a little blunter with him, to instil more confidence in him and more pleasure for them both. “Touch me. Please.”

Not an order, a plea.

His hand snaked up her thigh, under her skirt, resting back on her butt cheek. Closer now, he could practically feel the soft skin for himself as he massaged, only her underwear providing any real obstacle. Pyrrha’s breath hitched at his warm hand so close to her. No one had ever touched her in such places, and she didn’t want anyone else to ever again. She was Jaune’s only.

After a moment, his fingers now crept right up to the waistband of her tights, skirt hitching up as his arm moved. He looked at her, eyes silently questioning, just to make sure. Pyrrha neither spoke, nor even nodded. She just stroked his cheek with a tiny smile, his faint stubble lightly scratching her – a good scratch.

Permitted, he pulled the waistband down, and was quickly met with some opposition.

“Hold on,” he mumbled, sitting back up so he could recruit the help of his other hand. The tights were more stubborn than he thought, the first tug barely descending past her hip. With both hands, he now pulled the whole lot down, careful not to bring her underwear down with them, not just yet. In fact, with the skirt hitched up, he had a clear view of those too – dark green, matching her eyes. Simple too, not like the lacy flounces of Peony’s. Really, he didn’t care too much as to what they looked like; it was what lay within that piqued his interest, and hers.

The tights slid down the remainder of her legs before being totally discarded to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Jaune flopped back down beside her, kissing her deeply, while his hands worked up her thighs once more, back up to her hips and butt. The passion heated up with their arousal; he was straining against his pants, desperate to break free. 

As the kiss became a full make out session, one of Pyrrha’s hands slipped through the open top of Jaune’s shirt to caress his shoulder and neck, the other snaking up through the bottom to explore his back.

Her words echoed in his head.

_Touch me._

Now more than ever he wanted to be intimate with her. What they were sharing was unique – neither having ever bared themselves like this before, so a boldness and passion sparked in both of them that only they could have ignited together, alone, like this. He wanted her. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, and how far away she was from Peony Bloom in his eyes. How much _more_ she was.

So he aimed for an area that had held his particular interest for a long time.

His hand left her cheek to sneak slowly up, under her blouse. Her skin was smooth yet stomach hardened with muscle as he felt his way up. He smiled when she gasped into his mouth – she knew where he was headed.

He felt the bra cup first, a little rough from its embroidered embellishments. Moving up, his fingers then came in contact with flesh. His whole hand surrounded her breast, which fitted perfectly in his hold. The caresses that followed provided pleasure for both of them. While he somehow became even stiffer, Pyrrha moaned into his neck at the sensation. This was the intimacy she’d dreamt of for so, so long. And it was about to get even better.

His hand shifted to give the other breast some much-craved attention, beaming as Pyrrha cried out again. Her fingernails dug into his back, stinging yet wonderful to feel, like he was a rock while she was tossed about on a sea of arousal. He wasn’t quite sure how his large, clumsy hands could expel such a reaction from a girl, but he wasn’t complaining. With Pyrrha’s breath hot on his neck, her finger nails clawed into his skin, he decided to advance even further. 

He pulled his hand back a moment, took a breath, before sliding the tips of his fingers into the cup.

Another long, hot breath licked across his neck, almost like a sigh. His own heart rate had risen dramatically, as proven by the erratic thumping in his ears and hammering against his chest. He looked down at her, pulled some red strands of hair away from her sweating forehead, searching for any signs of disapproval at his advance.

There were none. Her green eyes were bright beneath her damp, messy fringe. They beheld a look in them that he had seen before – last semester, at the dance, anything to do with his affections for Weiss, anything to do with Peony. 

A look of pleading.

But this was a slightly different pleading, and at long last, he would oblige her straight away. His whole hand was swallowed by the cup, his skin meeting bare breast.

_“Ohhhhh.”_

Pyrrha’s hand retreated from his back to grip his hair again. She knew that being touched there was good, but she never anticipated it to be _this_ good, with someone else! As his fingers moulded against the ample flesh, thick, molten need pooled inside her hotter than before. One leg hooked right around his, bringing their lower regions closer together. A sort of rhythm developed with his touching, which she matched with slight movements of her hips, lightly pushing her crotch against his every so often. Her genitals sang each time they brushed against him – namely, something hard. She grinned at her discovery, but was cut off by a loud gasp – Jaune was now rubbing her nipple.

His action came to an abrupt stop. “Are you ok?” he asked, checking he hadn’t rubbed too hard.

“I’m fine.” She kissed his mouth – missed, planting it on his chin instead. “It just felt really good.”

Sighing with relief, he pecked her forehead, and continued. Encouraged by her words, he allowed himself to rub a little harder, before gently pinching the nipple when it became a hardened bud.

More golden bliss poured down into her needy depths. She needed to touch more of him, it was only fair. Not even discussing with Jaune about where she was going, she unzipped his pants and felt the bulges in his boxers.

“Ahhh, Pyrrha!” 

It took him by surprise, but her warm hand around his most private of places was something he’d been looking forward to for a while.

She felt him carefully, a mixture of desire and curiosity. The hard shaft, lower down, the softer, fleshier orbs that stored his seed. Seed which he would release because of her.

And she wanted to do it for him, now more than ever. She wanted to see exactly how much he loved her, and show him her own feelings, her willingness to please him. She wanted to get to know him, _in that way._

Sure and decisive, her fingers slipped into the hem of his boxers, before wrapping abound his erection. 

“Ohhh my God!” Jaune’s moan was the loudest one either had emitted yet. The volume grew when she began to stroke him, up, down, up, down. Waves of intense, glorious bliss shot from tip to base, then back up again, down to his testicles, _everywhere_ in that vicinity. He had to lie flat on his back, withdrawing his hand from her chest, as he couldn’t focus on anything else. He closed his eyes and allowed the waves to take over his heart rate, his breathing, his entire being.

Pyrrha watched his face, intently. Though his eyes were closed, the twinges of his brows and beads of sweat and heavy pants told her that she was doing everything right. She increased the speed, daring to look down at her handiwork. Her hand was ablur along his shaft, rising free from his boxers. A light slapping sound could be heard – she didn’t know quite what it was but she reckoned it was something to do with the foreskin, given that the tip was where it seemed to be coming from. 

Having never seen a penis before, especially an aroused one, she really couldn’t say if his was larger or smaller than average. She thought it was pretty big; her fingers only just met her thumb. What struck her most of all was how soft and smooth the skin was, perhaps from being hidden away all the time, yet covered such contrasting hardness underneath – a combination of opposites. Sometimes, it felt as though it was moving in her hand on its own, which she attributed to throbbing. Precum seeped out, over her knuckles when she met the tip, spreading it downward. His length was now slick and lubricated, allowing her to move even faster, this helped by her fit arm muscles.

Small grunts clawed from Jaune’s throat, growing more intense as a warm twinging signalled his imminent release. His seed began to stir.

“Pyrrha! It’s coming!” His voice was broken like shards of glass. 

She tightened her grip and kept going, watching his grimacing face, then his lower anatomy when he came.

The orgasm shot through him, semen splattering onto his belly and Pyrrha’s hand. He expelled what sounded like an odd mix between a gasp, a groan and a hiccup. Two more pumps of the white goo followed, and he reduced to mere whimpers. While he bathed in the afterglow, Pyrrha inspected the substance curiously. It was stretchy and sticky yet slippery, clinging onto her fingers before succumbing to gravity, slowly dripping.

Recovering a little, Jaune propped himself up on his elbows to inspect the mess. “Ah, um…we’re going to need a tissue.”

As it happened, Ren kept a box on his desk. Pyrrha crossed the room to swipe a handful, first cleaning her hand, then wiping Jaune’s torso.

“Wow, there’s a lot of it,” she mumbled as the tissues were soon drenched, and semen still very much present on his belly. It was white where it remained in thick strands, and a clear, shiny film everywhere else. She’d unwittingly painted him. 

More tissues were grabbed, and this time Jaune helped. Together, they soon insured that his skin was free from his juices. The scrunched up balls which had collected his semen rolled off the bed as Pyrrha flopped down next to him, sighing contentedly.

She had done all that. Her kisses, her hands, her love had released his most primitive of desires, and she had satisfied him. And it wasn’t forced at all; he had _allowed_ her. Something told her that this made his experience all the more pleasurable.

He kissed her cheek and nuzzled her neck. “That was amazing!” he declared. And it was amazing – much more so than any orgasm he’d given himself. There was something about doing it with someone you loved that made it feel so much better.

His hand slowly trailed down her shoulder, rested on her breast a while, before continuing down to her hip, then her leg. As he crept under the skirt once more, Pyrrha laid fully on her back, biting her lip, anticipating what was coming.

He brushed against her clit through the fabric, and she shuddered, breath ragged. Her legs fell aside, and hips angled up towards him, begging him to continue. Jaune read the signs, deciding that if she didn’t want this, she would have told him by now.

He reached the band of her underwear, and slipped inside.

What he met first was more of her abdomen, though with some slight hair. As he explored further down, it became warmer, until he reached her divide. There, he was met with a crevasse of moistness.

Tiny moans ragged from Pyrrha’s mouth, along with one word: _“Please.”_

He sank lower, enticing more pants and groans from her, encouraging signs. He was surprised by how fleshy it was down there. Despite having grown up surrounded by girls, he didn’t know exactly what their sex organs were like; he thought there was the vagina and that was it. But no, there were warm flaps of flesh, slick, smooth skin, and a small, hard bud near the top that enticed particularly loud whines from Pyrrha whenever it was touched.

Further down, he found her entrance, but stopped there out of uncertainty. That was meant to accommodate a penis, not his fingers. But Pyrrha’s next begging words laid his confusion to rest.

“C-could you…could you please go inside?”

So he did, and her head threw back as she flung forth a thrilled cry, hand clenching his shirt. Finally, the moment she had dreamt for so long during her lonely pleasurings in the shower. Her hips bucked to grind her clit against his hand, and he thrust in response. The combined movement produced enough friction for a golden shockwave to wash over her. She could climax at any moment!

“How many fingers is that?”

“One.”

“Use two!”

“Wha-?” He obeyed anyway, withdrawing slightly so that his two middle fingers could creep inside her. Warmer and wetter than her outer folds, it made thrusting easier, and her hips jolted against him at a ferocious speed, forcing him to increase his own.

She pulled him closer, whining into the crook of his shoulder, back arching off the bed for each wave that submersed her. She clutched his busy hand to bring his palm just a little lower…

_There._

Now he was rubbing her clit too, the pleasure intensified. She cried louder, dug her fingernails into his shoulder and back. Meanwhile his free hand clenched the back of her blouse, let go, snaked under it again, held her smooth and sweating back. With her head buried against him, he couldn’t watch her face, but he could at least hear and feel how much this meant to her. Underneath all that cool, professional attitude, she could be so fiery and passionate. It was as though their intimacy bared her soul as much as it did her longing. Seeing her like this was… _fascinating._ And only he could draw it out.

Pyrrha’s breath hitched, her grip tightened, hips bucked with so much force now that they bounced off the bed. She was climbing, brightening, ready to explode, so so very close and all she needed was a little more, _come on, please…!_

_YES!_

It exploded, engulfing her entire body. The waves of pleasure snapped into a tsunami and she was helpless to stop it. Her eyes flew open, head flung back as her back arched, and she screamed.

_OHH YES!!!_

It was so loud she had to muffle herself in Jaune’s shirt. He meanwhile just kept rubbing for as long as her hips remained bucking, though more languid as she rode out her climax. The scream became a wail, until at long last she died down to whimpers. Finally, her body fell motionless. 

Jaune removed his glistening fingers, intrigued at the fluid which covered them. It was almost like semen, maybe thinner, and smelt different. He vaguely wondered what it tasted like, then wondered why he was wondering such a thing. In the end, he cleaned it off with a stray tissue, before lying back down next to her.

Arms surrounded one another. Jaune planted a kiss on her forehead, and she hummed in happiness. 

“That was great.”

“Good. I…” He gave a short laugh. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

She grinned, performing a triumphant dance on the inside. Indeed they had done it.

_Finally._

Though there were other things they could do as well. They had yet to go all the way, the ultimate bond. But that day would arrive soon. They’d taken a few massive steps towards it, to learn about one another in a light that no one else would get close enough to see. New, intimate sides had been exposed, and to be shared exclusively between the two of them. Thinking about it deeply now, it was special.

Pyrrha inwardly put a middle finger up at Peony.

They bathed in their afterglow, relaxed and content, holding each other close despite the heat. Neither were sure how long they laid like that, Jaune was drifting off to sleep while Pyrrha replayed their sensual moment in her mind over and over again. 

They were wrenched back into the real world by the bleep of a message alert. The more awake of the two, Pyrrha reached down to rummage through the discarded clothing on the floor for the scroll. It was soon found, tumbling out of Jaune’s blazer. She passed it to a groggy Jaune, who opened and found a message from Ren.

_Hey, it’s been a while. Are you guys ok?_

It took a moment for his fuzzy mind to comprehend the message, but once he did, he expelled a soft chuckle.

“Wow, I guess it _has_ been a while. I think we can call them back now.”

“Mm.” Pyrrha’s eyes remained fixed on the mess of discarded clothing. “But first I think we need to make ourselves presentable.”

“Ha, right.” For the first time, Jaune noticed that his pants’ zipper was still undone, his boxers on full display. His shirt was mostly unbuttoned, and Pyrrha’s skirt had been hitched up beyond her crotch. 

It wasn’t until they were dressed to a decent standard that Jaune messaged Ren back, informing him that he and Nora could return. When the pair arrived five minutes later, they found the pair of lovebirds exactly as they left them – albeit, snuggled together on Pyrrha’s bed.

Sensing a new peacefulness in the room, Ren approached them with a small smile. “Everything ok, now?”

“Certainly much better now, yes,” Pyrrha replied, humming contently.

Ren’s gaze shifted between the two. Something was different about them. Perhaps it was their slightly flushed cheeks, or their constant, bashful smiling? Or that strange light in their eyes as if their souls were just trying to shine through. They’d been up to _something_ during their time alone. As for what, Ren didn’t want to know.

“Though I must confess,” the redhead went on, sitting herself up a little, “though a significant improvement has been made in my mood, I won’t consider myself completely satisfied until I’ve given Peony her just dessert.”

Nora gave a whistle of approval. “Legs are gonna be broken!”

“Or smug little faces.”

And Jaune merely shrugged at the threat. “Do whatever you want. I’m done keeping ‘peace’ between us and a brat who can’t take a hint.”

 

In her dorm, Peony was planning. Her teammates had invited her to join in their card game, but she had bluntly declined, retreating to her desk, declaring that she had more important things to do.

This was met with an exasperated response from Poppy, “Don’t tell me you’re _still_ not over that Jaune guy?”

“What’s it to you?” the flower girl asked simply.

“Peony, seriously, he’s got someone else. He’s happy with her. It’s time to accept that and move on.”

Peony gritted her teeth. Why couldn’t any of them _see?_ Did she just have a special set of eyes that could somehow see the inscrutable yet undeniable truth of the matter? She wouldn’t be trying so hard if she and Jaune weren’t written in the stars! If they weren’t destined to be together…why did she _feel_ the overwhelming need to do something?

But there was no point in telling them that. They wouldn’t understand.

“Just leave me alone, all of you. I can do this.”

Poppy opened her mouth, but was stopped by Orchid’s calm and steady hand rest on her shoulder.

“She’ll never listen,” the pink-haired girl mumbled. “It’ll all end in tears for her, so let it happen. Experience is the greatest teacher.”

Indeed it was. And though Peony hadn’t heard Orchid’s quiet words, she had learnt two things.

One: Don’t kick books into pools. Or don’t kick anyone’s possessions into pools. Or don’t damage anyone’s possessions after just being rescued – that was the cause of the attention being snatched straight from her to a sodden Blake. If she wanted all the adoring sympathy, she had best not do anything that could jeopardise that.

Two: Sucking up to the janitor and working on Beacon’s gardens had in fact reaped a tremendous benefit. Because she now had something that no other student had.

A key to the janitor’s closet.

Why was that a tremendous benefit?

 

 

She’d already seen a few spiders in there.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
So...we got to some long awaited intimacy.  
But no sex, that would be way too easy! It took 18 chapters to get to the kiss, for goodness' sake :P  
You could say that this was a step in that direction as many real couples would take. Too many fanfics jump from first kiss straight to sex. A dose of real life with a certain Peony Bloom around equals TENSION.  
;)


	24. Spiders in the Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peony sets in motion yet another grand master plan, this one involving keys and spiders. In other news, Yang can be really bawdy at times. And Pyrrha does something she's waited a long time for.

Just like when they first started dating, a new atmosphere could be sensed about Jaune and Pyrrha. The coy looks had returned, and the hinting, knowing smiles. Pyrrha could giggle at even the smallest of things, her significantly improved mood a relief for her concerned friends. Jaune, meanwhile, held himself differently – shoulders squared and chest out, oozing confidence, and grinned at the vaguest of innuendoes.

Yang mentioned something about their ‘first time’. Ruby asked, “‘First time’ what?”

The blonde cast her sister a sly look. “Their first time. Their _deflowering.”_

The younger girl frowned. “But…they’re not plants…”

Deciding that Ruby was far too naïve for an almost-sixteen-year-old and their father wasn’t there to stop her anyway, Yang cranked up the vulgarity.

“The pencil has entered the sharpener.”

Listening to the conversation in their dorm, Blake and Weiss winced, involuntarily visualising it.

But Ruby still didn’t get it. Her expression remained blank. 

“The sword has been sheathed,” Yang went on, the gleeful grin proving how she was enjoying this a little too much. “The fearless Jaune Arc has boldly gone where no one has gone before – the glistening cave of Pyrrh–”

“YANG!”

Blake and Weiss glared at the bawdy blonde, flushed at the obscene imagery. They had shouted in unison, loudly, and Yang had silenced. Her grin, however, remained.

And then Ruby, who finally felt she had decoded the cryptic phrases, piped up, “Jaune has finally smooched Pyrrha – _with tongues?”_

Tired of Yang’s messing with the younger girl’s innocence, Weiss finally blew her cool. She dropped a fist on her bed and snapped back, “Look, we just think they’ve had sex, ok?”

Silver eyes blinked several times. Then eyebrows raised as understanding finally washed over Ruby’s features. “Oh,” she said. 

Then her face crumpled into a grimace. 

_“Eww.”_

While Ruby tried to rid herself of the twisted images of two of her friends engaged in her understanding of what sex looked like, Pyrrha was planning her attack. Outside of battle, she wasn’t really a violent person. She was often forgetful of her own strength, and a playful, ‘gentle’ punch could knock someone over. But it had never been in her best interest to hurt someone.

Except that battle with CRDL, but that was different, they were all pricks.

Now, Pyrrha was willing to put her strength to good use. Punching a smaller girl on sight may look a little immoral, but since when had Peony shown any real morality? It was about time she was given exactly what she deserved.

The champion of Mistral had it all planned. Get Peony alone. Maybe reveal a few harsh truths. Punch her. Leave while she lay wailing on the floor. Simple. 

Oddly though, Peony remained rather scarce that day, almost as if she knew what was coming. She sat further away in classes, and disappeared at lunch and breaks. Relieving for most, incredibly infuriating for Pyrrha. She had hoped to meet her in a quiet corridor and pounce then, as a written message to arrange a meeting would never work – Peony just wouldn’t turn up.

Although she didn’t let this get to her too much this time around, it was still disappointing whenever the pink clad girl quit the room with hundreds of students around her, unconsciously acting as a barrier. Weiss warned the redhead at lunch to stop looking around so much as she looked like a Vacuan meerkat. And when she read the note stuck to her locker after class, Pyrrha supposed that Jaune was starting to get a little annoyed too.

_Pyrrha,_  
_Meet me at the janitor’s closet ASAP._  
_Jaune x_

Nonetheless, she hurried to the janitor’s closet. The kiss on the end of the message showed that Jaune couldn’t be too angry. Perhaps he wanted to talk about their antics the previous evening. Perhaps he wanted to do it again… _there?_ Her face flushed at the idea, though she wasn’t completely opposed to it.

The door to the janitor’s closet was wide open, the light from outside illuminating only some of the buckets, mops and shelves burdened with various maintenance equipment. It seemed lifeless, but Pyrrha decided to peek inside just to check Jaune wasn’t actually waiting for her _in_ the closet. After all, he might be wanting a very, very private conversation. Especially if he wanted to…

As she leaned in, a harsh wind blew her forwards, clawing at her hair and thrusting it in her eyes. She squealed in shock at how wind could be _inside,_ before swiping her hair off her face.

First she saw petals. Pink and furiously whipping about her like a snowstorm, slicing across her skin. She turned to face the barrage, knowing exactly who would be standing behind her. But all she saw of Peony was a blurred figure as the hurricane of pink bore down on her stronger than ever, pushing her back. She held her stance; it wasn’t as bad as Ruby’s sonic wave, and there were no tables and soda cans and whatever else flying with it. Just petals. Stinging, blinding, razor petals.

Having evidently grown frustrated at Pyrrha’s immovable form, Peony resulted to a more physical solution. She shoved the taller girl with every essence of strength in her smaller body. The blinded Pyrrha didn’t see it coming, especially with the howling wind and petals whipping past her ears to drown out any footsteps. She fell backwards, landing heavily on her back with a yelp. Then a door slammed shut and lock clicked, and the petal storm was gone.

She rubbed her eyes, groaning, before opening them at last. At first, she couldn’t tell if they were open or closed. It was pitch black, not even the light squeezing under the door providing much help.

A voice cawed through the walls, “Watch out for the spiders, Pyrrha!” Then the clicks of heels swaggering away to silence.

Pyrrha bolted upright. Sweat beaded at her forehead.

_Spiders?_

She leapt to her feet, vehemently dusting off herself in case any eight-legged creature had managed to creep its way onto her already. Of course there’d be spiders in here. She was trapped inside the janitor’s closet. That meant…that meant the note from Jaune was a fake, didn’t it? Why else would _Peony_ so happen to be here at that moment?

In a burst of anger, Pyrrha threw herself on the door, pulled it, pushed it, and banged it mercilessly.

“PEONY BLOOM, LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!” 

It was too late, heeled footsteps had vanished, but the furious screams didn’t stop.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH, PEONY! WHY DON’T YOU JUST GROW UP AND LEAVE US ALONE?!”

“…Pyrrha?”

The redhead turned, panting, towards the little voice. It had come from the back of the closet, right where the shadows were thickest. Perhaps where all the spiders were.

She swallowed, recognising the voice. “Blake? Is that you?”

“Yeah.” There was a shuffling as the faunus girl crept closer. “Are you ok?”

For such a calmly stated question, Pyrrha’s response was a frantic rant, her voice heightening in pitch as she went on. 

“No. No I am not ok. Being the stupid, gullible idiot that I am, I’ve been tricked by Peony fucking Bloom to come here and she’s trapped me inside, and there are _fucking spiders_ in here! I need to get out before I start hyperventilating, and then I’m going to find that bitch, and hit her so hard she’ll need reconstructive face surgery!”

Blake blinked. “I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“THAT’S BECAUSE I’M UNDER EXTREME EMOTIONAL STRESS.”

“I understand that…”

Pyrrha leaned heavily against the door and buried her head in her hands. She expelled what sounded like a cross between a gasp and a sob. “Are there any spiders in here, Blake?”

Honestly, Blake had seen a few creeping on the backs of the shelves, hunched up and suspended in their webs while they waited for their next meal. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something crawl across the floor and behind a bucket. That was the largest one she’d seen so far.

“No,” she lied. “I haven’t seen any.” She too leaned against the door and put an arm around the distressed champion, who welcomed the gesture and leaned her head on Blake’s shoulder.

“If any come close, squash them. I don’t care if they’re living creatures with souls, they’re coming to eat me.”

Blake’s ears twitched. “Is that really what you believe?”

“Well…not exactly. It’s just an instilled fear, I mean…oh I don’t know. I was bitten by a spider when I was very young. It was a poisonous one, and I ended up in hospital. Never trusted the bastards ever since.”

“Oh,” Blake said, wondering why she was telling her of all people. Perhaps fear was making her babble a little. 

Pyrrha sniffed and drew a shaky sigh. “Anyway, Blake. What are you doing here?”

“Ruby wanted to play hide ‘n’ seek, so this is my hiding spot. I brought a book with me, the one that got wet the other day. Yang did a good job drying it out.” She waved the object in her other hand, then realised that Pyrrha couldn’t see it. “I couldn’t see through those petals at first and it was only when you started shouting that I realised it was you. It’s…it’s definitely locked, huh?”

Pyrrha nodded glumly.

“But how did she get a key?”

“By sucking up to the janitor,” Pyrrha spat. “Remember, she turned the academy gardens into a flower show.”

“Ah.” Blake now flicked open her scroll, its light causing them both to wince. “I’m not really a competitive person, so I’ll call for help. Have you got your scroll?”

Pyrrha shook her head. “I left it in my locker. Guess I got over-excited about talking to Jaune.” When Blake cast her a quizzical look, she briefly explained about the fake note.

“What a little bitch,” the faunus murmured, and tapped a group text to her team members. Calling them could reveal Weiss and Yang’s hiding places as Ruby looked for them, all three being very competitive.

_Blake: Pyrrha and I are locked in the janitor’s closet. Please help._

_Ruby: Aw, Blake! Now I know where you’re hiding!_

_Weiss: How did you get LOCKED in the janitor’s closet?_

_Ruby: And why’s Pyrrha there? Is she joining in?_

_Yang: You two are together, in a dark, locked room, aloooooone…? ;)_

_Blake: SHUT UP YANG. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. Pyrrha._

_Yang: Huh?_

_Blake: Sorry, Pyrrha typed that. We need your help. In answer to Weiss’s question: Peony._

_Ruby: D:_

_Weiss: FUCKING BITCH, SHE HAD A KEY?????_

_Blake: Yes. Her intent was trapping Pyrrha in here, cos Jaune stuff, jealousy, haters hate etc._

_Ruby: Ok, don’t worry, I’m on my way. And just so you know, we won’t count this round._

_Blake: Fine. Just hurry, Pyrrha’s panicking about the spiders in here._

_Weiss: I can’t believe she’s scared of spiders of all things…_

_Blake: WEISS YOU CAN’T TALK, YOU’RE REPULSED BY THEM TOO! Pyrrha._

_Weiss: I’m not as bad as you though._

_Blake: IT’S A PROBLEM, I KNOW! BUT RIGHT NOW THE PROBLEM IS GETTING OUT OF HERE, AND THEN FINDING THE FUCKING BITCH SO I CAN PUNCH HER SMUG LITTLE FACE IN. Pyrrha._

_Weiss: …._

_Yang: *claps* Aww yiss! The Pyrrhanator is cursing at last!_

_Blake: PLEASE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY. Pyrrha._

_Yang: I’m just gonna assume that caps means Big P._

_Blake: That sounds sooo wrong… >:(_

_Yang: Huh. It does. Big P._

_Blake: Yang…_

_Yang: As in Jaune’s Big P, amirite Pyrrha? ;D_

_Blake: …I’m not showing her that message. Ruby, PLEASE HURRY!_

Blake closed her scroll, enveloping them in darkness once more. Thank goodness Pyrrha had looked away when Yang’s string of bawdy messages came through, otherwise it wouldn’t just be Peony getting pummelled today.

 

Peony sashayed down the corridor, beaming. It had all gone according to plan. The note had been quite hard to forge at first. Back when Jaune helped her with her homework, he had written down a few things which she had kept, at first to gaze at the individual stamp he had left on the paper. Then she found another, more useful purpose for it. Whenever she got a chance that day, she’d gone to her dorm to copy the messy handwriting as best she could, moulding it into a convincing message of her own. 

And it had all paid off.

Pyrrha was well and truly out of the way, so now was as good a time as any to strike. Her heels echoed as she ascended the steps to the rooftop, and sighed as the cool, refreshing air filled her lungs.

Jaune sat by the roof’s edge, his weapon laid across his lap, waiting for Pyrrha. A door clicked shut behind him, and he turned. His smile quickly disappeared. 

Peony smiled, her body blocking the closed door. “Hello, Jaune.”

“Peony?” He leapt up and attached Croeca Mors to his belt. His eyes hardened. “What are you doing here? Where’s Pyrrha? She’s not normally late.”

Her smile widened, like an innocent-looking, yet creepy doll. “I came to see you. And as for Pyrrha, she’s being a cowardly little girl. You don’t want a girl, do you, Jaune? You want a _woman.”_ She slid her hands down her curves to accentuate her point.

Of course it didn’t sway him. Jaune’s expression only grew stormier. “What have you done, Peony?”

Magenta eyes widened, doll-like once again. “I haven’t done anything. It’s not my fault she’s scared of something as stupid as tiny spiders. I mean, _really?_ A champion warrior, frightened by something so small? And then she _fainted_ at the sight of its Grimm cousin! What do you see in such helplessness, Jaune? If it weren’t for me, you’d all be dead!”

Jaune scowled. “Helplessness? That’s a bit rich when you kept coming to me to help with your homework instead of looking it up in a book or something!”

Peony stamped a foot. “Because I wanted to spend time with you! And that’s why I’m here now.” She took a step forward, and her voice softened. “You’ve no idea how blind you are…”

She sidled closer, and Jaune couldn’t back away as the edge of the roof laid right behind him.

“Don’t come any closer, Peony, or I swear I’ll knock you off the roof.”

She kept on advancing towards him. “That’s Pyrrha talking. I want to hear the real Jaune.”

“This _is_ the real Jaune, telling you to fuck off!”

She scowled, the doll-like features crumbling like shattered porcelain. “So you’re using that kind of language with me now?”

“That’s how far you’ve driven me!” Jaune snapped, his voice cracking as pent up rage took over. “I’ve literally lost all respect for you! What you did in the maze was despicable, which is why if _dare_ come near me, you better grow some wings real fast!”

“You didn’t even let us get _started_ in the maze,” Peony sighed, folding her arms, intentionally squeezing her breasts together. “I’m guessing it’s because we were outside. That stupid little girl caught us after all…”

“Don’t talk about my friends like that!”

“They say worse things about me! As I was saying, if we were to _engage in what was intended_ in private, you’ll respond better.”

She smiled up at him, expecting him to find this idea a whole lot more agreeable. 

No.

If anything, his scowl had deepened, eyes darkened to a furious deep blue. Somehow, it all made him look older.

“You are fucking insane,” was all he said, and he stormed right around her towards the door. He shrugged off her clinging arms, pushed her back a little rougher than he normally would, but it didn’t matter anymore. By the time he reached the handle, he wanted to avenge himself and Pyrrha. He wanted to bask in the horrified look on the deranged girl’s face when he told her…

“If you must know,” he said, his eyes sparkling with a new emotion: triumph. The smile that curved at his lips was sardonic. “Pyrrha and I have gone to third base.” He threw the door open. “Properly. And it was freakin’ amazing.”

He allowed himself a few moments to study her. Paled skin, eyes rounded, mouth gaping, brows creased – a horror-stricken, jealous little brat.  
The door slammed behind him as he left.

He only made it halfway down the hall when the door whammed open and heeled feet sprinted after him along with screams telling him to wait and kiss her, or something along those lines. Jaune wasn’t sure, he’d already broken into a run.

 

There were actually quite a lot of spiders in the janitor’s closet. Blake could see them, scuttling along the ceiling, dangling down from strings of web like spies, a particularly fat and hairy one slowly advancing along the shelf towards Pyrrha. The crumbled warrior in question stood stiffly with her back against the door, panting and wheezing, almost frozen.

_Come on, Ruby. Hurry!_

“Blake?” she whispered, and her next sentence cracked with petrified squeaks. “I think there’s a spider on my leg.”

Blake checked for her. “There’s nothing there.”

“I can feel something crawling up my leg!”

“Still nothing there. Sometimes your brain can play tricks on you and you think there’s something touching you.”

But Pyrrha was determined to look on the bleak side of things. “That’s bullshit. I _can_ feel something on my leg and I _know_ it’s a damn spider! Now get it off of me _right now!”_

Knowing it was the best way to calm her, Blake resolved to rid her of the invisible creature.

“Which leg is it on?”

“Right leg. It’s just below my knee!”

With her forefinger and thumb, Blake picked off the ‘spider’, pinching Pyrrha’s tights for emphasis.

“It’s gone.”

The tall girl remained stiff and straight against the door. “Really?”

“Yes.”

She sighed in relief, but her shoulders didn’t sag. “Thank you.”

Another five minutes passed, full of Pyrrha believing that the spiders were crawling over her. Finally, a set of racing footsteps, and a beautifully familiar, cheery voice.

“Are you guys ready for a fearless hero or what?”

Pyrrha half laughed, half cried in joy.

Blake’s cat ears pricked up. “Ruby! Where have you _been?”_

“Been to get some help,” Ruby’s muffled voice floated back. 

“What?”

A new voice answered, bold and teasing, “Ready for fearless hero number two?”

Blake couldn’t help but giggle. “Hi, Sun.”

“I brought him because I thought he could pick the lock or something,” Ruby explained.

The cat faunus frowned. “He can pick locks?”

“Yes I can,” Sun responded, a little too proudly. “You learn a lot when you grow up in the back alleys of Vacuo.”

“Sun, I swear, one of these days I’ll find out you and you’re team have robbed a bank too.”

Done with waiting, Pyrrha slapped the door with the palm of her hand and snapped back, “Oh, who cares if he’s robbed banks? JUST PICK THE DAMN LOCK ALREADY!”

“Jeez…” Sun mumbled, but got to work anyway. Something slid into the lock, which was followed by a metallic fumbling. Sun cursed a couple of times, Pyrrha whined about the incoming arachnids, Blake begged him to hurry, then Sun told them all to just shut up or he’d leave them in there.

At last, there was a particularly loud click, and the door eased open. Light engulfed the two girls, blinding them. While Blake took a moment for her eyes to adjust, Pyrrha staggered out to lean on the opposite wall. She panted and gasped, stroking the smooth plaster under her hand.

“I am…going…to murder…that bitch!”

“No one’s stopping you,” Ruby murmured, gently picking off a tiny spider crawling in Pyrrha’s hair.

Blake exited the closet and shut the door with a decisive bang. Sun came forward to ask if she was alright, but she cut across him with a hiss. Her ears twitched under her bow.

“What is it?” said Sun.

Cat ears alert, Blake stared down the corridor, eyes focused and unmoving.

“Someone’s running towards us,” she whispered.

Sun shrugged. “So?”

She looked at him. “I think I can hear Peony’s voice.”

At the mention of her nemesis’s name, Pyrrha straightened herself and watched the end of the corridor. This was it. She could feel it.

As if on cue, the tall figure of Jaune rounded the end corner and sprinted towards them, blond mop bouncing on his head with each long stride.

“WATCH OUT, SHE’S COMING!”

When he reached them, he slowed down for them to follow. Only Pyrrha didn’t move. While the others backed away, she watched the pink girl careering towards them, magenta eyes locked on her prize. Pyrrha flattened herself against the wall to encourage her advance.

Peony picked up the pace. It seemed Pyrrha would for once stay out of her way. Perhaps being locked with the spiders had cooled her passion.

She soon found out how wrong she was.

Barely three feet away, Pyrrha launched herself off the wall. Her forearm slammed into Peony’s chin to halt her run. While the dainty flower girl staggered back, dazed, Pyrrha released the attack she’d been waiting for.

Her fist flew, strong and calculated, colliding right into Peony’s face. Her hand stung, her nemesis fell flat on her back with a satisfying thud, a red bruise adorning her cheek.

Pyrrha exhaled, flexing her fingers.

That felt good.

Even after a traumatic few minutes locked in a spider-infested closet. 

In fact, that made the sensation of punching her even better. Another, fresh reason as to why she deserved it. And Pyrrha was only too happy to oblige.

The others gaped at the floored girl, then at Pyrrha, then Peony again. She didn’t move much, but her eyes were open, and her breaths were short and ragged. Still conscious.

Sun spoke first: “Wow.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were going to punch her,” Blake murmured.

“It was a good one though,” Ruby added.

Jaune remained wordless, admiring the bruise. It was a beauty – red and fiery, Pyrrha’s personal mark.

Peony’s head shifted ever so slightly to peer up at him and him alone, begging for pity. Tears pooled in her eyes. “Jaune! See what she did to me?” Her tone was quiet and pathetic. “See why you can’t be with her?”

One side of Jaune’s mouth curved upwards into a crooked smile. A smirk. “You brought this on yourself. Stay away from us or it’ll be _my_ fist next time.”

He probably wasn’t as good a puncher as Pyrrha, but it was a good enough threat.

The triumphant redhead cast her defeated opponent one last green-eyed glare, before turning on her heel with a defiant flick of her hair and calmly walking away.

Peony sat up, clutching her cheek as tears streamed down her face, ruining her makeup. “I’ll report this to Goodwitch, you bitch!” she yelled after her.

“Do what you like,” Pyrrha growled. She didn’t care about the consequences of her actions right now. She was a star student, the punishment wouldn’t be that bad.

 _“Jaaauunnnne,_ please don’t leave me injured and alone like this!”

But Jaune was already leaving. He’d caught up with Pyrrha and took her hand – the hand that had delivered the punch. He kissed her cheek.

Peony resorted to beg for help from the last three, but they turned as well. Blake didn’t speak, or show and emotion. Ruby bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. Sun just rolled his eyes and remarked, “Bitch, you had it coming.”

So the wilted flower was left there, alone and tear-streaked, her face stinging and throbbing, her plan shattered before her once again. The revelation on Jaune and Pyrrha’s latest antics was particularly hard to take. Their relationship was advancing faster than ever, and he was _enjoying_ it! How could he enjoy it with _her?_ SHE HAD JUST PUNCHED AN INNOCENT GIRL IN THE FACE!

A slender hand clenched into a fist.

There were other ways to claim Jaune for her own once more. 

Such as splitting the happy couple up for good.

 

______________________________________________________________

So I'm back from the dead.  
All exams are done now, so I can consentrate all my life juices on this.  
Spiders in the Closet = Skeleton in the closet, like Jaune revealing to Peony of his and Pyrrha's 'bonding' (yes, let's call it bonding. It's a good word.)

Hope you're all still enjoying this :)


	25. Common Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peony is a victimized innocent - of course! She has a plan to exact revenge on Pyrrha (again...*sigh*), but this time it'll be bigger, and she'll need help.

“Miss Nikos, do you know why you have been called here?”

Professor Goodwitch knotted her fingers at her desk, eyeing the first year student opposite. Her office wasn’t as large and grand as Ozpin’s, but it was seemingly more functional. Bookcases and filing cabinets lined the walls, along with portraits of ex-Beacon students who had become top hunters. One of them, Pyrrha had noticed when she entered, looked remarkably like Jaune.

“I punched someone,” was all she said. 

Goodwitch drew in a sharp breath before elaborating, “You’ve been called here because of an unprovoked attack on another student.”

Pyrrha frowned with a shake of her head. “It wasn’t unprovoked.”

“Contrary to Miss Bloom’s claims. According to her, you struck her twice without any reason. You two hadn’t even exchanged words.”

Her star student was very honest and frank with her next words; almost as if the attack had been no more abnormal than rain in April.

“Not at that moment, no. And yes, I did strike her twice. A forearm to stun her–” she demonstrated with a replica jab of her arm “–and then delivered the final blow.” She brought a slow fist across, imitating a right hook.

The professor smoothed her palms on the desk with a thoughtful sigh. “It sounds to me like you calculated this attack, Miss Nikos. But I know my students, and I know it’s not in your nature to senselessly attack someone outside of battle – especially unarmed brawls.”

Pyrrha nodded with her, rounding her eyes a little to provide a better picture of innocence. Being a top student really did have its perks sometimes.

“That said,” Goodwitch went on, a little firmer. “Miss Bloom showed no threat to you. I am aware that she was running after Mr Arc at the time, but there are other ways to halt her pursuit. The punch was unnecessary.”

“Actually professor, it was _entirely_ necessary.”

Goodwitch stared at her. Like how it wasn’t in Pyrrha’s nature to strike without reason, the same could be said for her answering back. She _never_ talked back to her superiors like that! She was always so polite and formal…

Deciding that there must be a deeper reason behind all this, the professor slotted her fingers together again and said, “How so, then?”

Pyrrha breathed in. This was it, she would finally tell someone. Not everything, Jaune wouldn’t want that. But just enough for the flower bitch to be taken down.

“Peony Bloom has been a living nightmare since she came here.”

She paused a moment, to let the words ring in the air, to emphasise her point. Encouraged by an interested arch of Goodwitch’s eyebrow, she continued.

“Not just to me but my friends as well. She’s called me names, vandalised our belongings, stolen from us… Most of it happens to me. I finally snapped when she locked me in the spiders’ – I mean, the _janitor’s_ closet.”

“In which dwell spiders,” Goodwitch finished. 

Again, Pyrrha nodded vigorously, out of discomfort at the memory and eagerness to shoot Peony Bloom down.

“Your arachnophobia is something we will address next year, before battling arachnebites becomes mandatory.”

The ‘fearless’ champion shuddered.

“Back to the issue with Miss Bloom, you say she targets you most. Why would that be?”

Absentmindedly, Pyrrha touched her cheek, feeling its blazing blush. “She’s jealous of mine and Jaune’s relationship.” She blinked and corrected herself, deciding that ‘relationship’ sounded embarrassingly romantic, “Our friendship. Our…closeness.”

“I see. But please be aware that your team and team RWBY haven’t been much better, the latter especially. Take the fight between them and team POPI for example: sparked by Miss Rose’s childish prank.”

“She was getting revenge on Peony.”

“For…?”

Honestly, Pyrrha couldn’t even remember anymore. Claiming Jaune again? Something like that.

“For everything.”

Goodwitch pushed her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “So this has been a long-term problem. Rivalry between your teams and that of Miss Bloom’s. That’s twice that violence has occurred as a result. Since the attack wasn’t too major and I believe you when you say you had deeper reasons, I will let you off with a caution.”

Pyrrha sagged in relief. “Thank you, professor.”

“But do _not_ do anything like this again. Understand?”

“Yes, professor.” 

She couldn’t promise on behalf of anyone else, though. Just before she was called to the office, she heard Jaune ask Yang for boxing lessons. “Just teach me how to punch properly – I may need it,” were his exact words.

Goodwitch nodded in approval, and went on, “I will have another word with Miss Bloom about the matter. As well as Mr Arc, and perhaps Miss Rose...”

Pyrrha could only nod and agree. She hoped she hadn’t sparked a major inquiry into their involvement with Peony… But perhaps it was what they needed, to take the flower down, to end her spring.

“Any last words?”

The girl shook her red head.

“Very well. You are dismissed.”

 

Jaune, Ruby and Peony were called to Professor Goodwitch’s office later that day. The two leaders said similar things: how Peony had been a nightmare since day one. They shared some examples with the professor, including the events in the maze. This they had agreed to be vague about, Jaune calling Peony’s behaviour “indecent to the point where he was very uncomfortable”, and Ruby claiming she had only walked in on them just as Jaune got himself away from the flower girl. 

Which was true. 

Sort of.

Peony, of course, told an entirely different story. The maze incident hadn’t happened at all. It was Pyrrha who was jealous, and had roped in her friends to senselessly target her. She, Peony Bloom, was a victimized innocent.

Given that there was no solid evidenced against either side, Goodwitch simply warned her to stay away from the group, and vice versa. This was met with a sigh from Jaune and Ruby. It was all very well telling people to stay away from each other, but little did Goodwitch know that Peony _would not do that._ She would chase them for as long as she lived.

Nonetheless, Peony still resented the fact that a teacher had gotten involved. She sent Pyrrha a pointed glare at lunch, before sitting with her team a few tables away. Her bruise shone on her cheek – large, scarlet and painful. Her aura hadn’t healed it yet. In fact, there was no sign of it doing _anything._ It was soon found out why. 

As she was leaving the dining hall, some students asked her how she got the bruise. Her response was bursting into tears and wailing how Pyrrha Nikos had physically assaulted her. Yang and Blake were nearby at the time, leaving the hall themselves, when they heard this.

Yang made no effort to conceal her anger, and the crowd of students that had started to gather around the weeping flower turned when she yelled, “FUCKING BITCH! PYRRHA WOULDN’T HAVE NEEDED TO PUNCH YOU IF YOU’D JUST LEFT HER ALONE! YOU HAD IT COMING!”

Peony’s answer was almost inaudible through the flood of sobs. She whined about something along the lines of Pyrrha getting her friends involved. Yang tried to launch another verbal attack, and was promptly dragged away by Blake.

“DO ALL OF US A FAVOUR AND CURL UP AND DIE!” were Yang’s final furious words as the faunus yanked her away by the hair.

Peony cast her teary eyes up at her audience. 

“See what I mean?” she whimpered.

Unfortunately for Miss Bloom, the sympathy she gained wasn’t as plentiful as she’d liked. Blake and Yang later noted how out of the students that surrounded the crying girl, none of them were Haven kids. Peony had a track record at her school for being an exaggerative, attention-seeking brat, and when practically all the exchange students from Mistral warned the others of this, the crowds became smaller, the sympathy shattered to giggles. The next day, Peony’s bruise had magically disappeared.

“I really don’t know how she thought she would get away with that,” Pyrrha mused out-loud back in their dorm. “She had witnesses against her, three whole _teams_ against her – one of which including Neptune who everyone listens to because he’s apparently the coolest guy to ever grace Remnant – _and_ those who attended Sanctum know that I have never hinted violence to anyone outside of the arena.”

“Hm,” Jaune replied, not quite listening. Wednesday was mail day, and his mother sent him a letter or two without fail every week. He was rereading the latest addition to his large pile of embarrassingly adoring, maternal messages. He looked up at his girlfriend. “Say, Pyrrha, how’d you like to come with me to my house on Friday?”

Pyrrha stifled a giggle. That meant visiting his mother. They had all met Mrs Solène Arc before, the most notorious example being just before second semester when she charged down the path towards the school after Jaune, shouting and waving his forgotten bunny slippers in the air to gain his attention. She gave them to him with several kisses on the cheek and sugary, loving words, right in front of his team and Ruby’s. The teasing had been merciless for a short while after.

Even so, she seemed like a lovely person. And Pyrrha was interested in seeing the place where the boy she’d cared about for so long grew up, and perhaps meeting the magnificent seven sisters who he had his dancing talent to thank for.

“Sure,” she replied with a grin.

“Good. I know you’ve met her already, but I’d like to introduce you to her as, well, as my girlfriend.” A sheepish smile curved at his lips. “It’s not like I’ve ever had that privilege before.”

Indeed not. Any previous relationships were too insignificant or unserious for his mother to meet the lucky lady, as it were. And as for Peony…just no.

Meanwhile, Pyrrha was also thinking about Peony, but in a slightly different way.

She was meeting Jaune’s mother, visiting his home. He’d asked her to go. Peony would have tried to force her way there.

Good things came to the patient. Good things happened to good people in the end.

Pyrrha allowed herself a rare moment of smugness. These were becoming easier to come by the more she and Jaune did together, the more _new things_ they tried.

_Hahaha, Peony._

 

Team CRDL had a visitor that night. Lark answered the insistent series of knocks, and gulped at the flower girl on the other side. Her eyes were red and puffy, lip quivering and an unusual pale colour from the lack of lip gloss.

“Come to see Dove?” said Lark, eyeing her up and down. She really was pretty…

Peony shook her loose brown curls. She sounded weak and broken, “I’d like to see Cardin, please.”

Lark’s face fell, disappointed, but he alerted his team leader nonetheless. Dove’s voice piped up with joy from within the room, followed by hurrying footsteps to the door. His emphatic face burst from under Lark’s arm.

“Peony! I haven’t seen you in ages! How are you? D’you wanna go out some time? Maybe we could revisit Fort Castle – there’s still some interesting statues that I never had the chance to show you.”

Peony awkwardly fiddled with a ringlet. “Um, no thanks. I just need to talk with Cardin.”

“But–” Dove began, but he was thrust back into the room as Cardin pushed past.

“Make way, squirt,” he muttered, before shoving Lark out of the way too. He filled the door frame. “Whaddya want, Bloom?”

“I need to talk with you out here – in private.”

Sighing, Cardin came out into the corridor, banging the door shut. He looked down at Peony, who now hugged her arms across her chest, shrivelled and helpless.

She cast her eyes up at him, sparkling with the imminent tears. “Have you heard what Pyrrha did to me?”

Cardin shrugged. “She punched you in the face.”

“Yep.” Though there was no bruise anymore, Peony still stroked the afflicted area. “Big fucking bitch. I wasn’t doing anything wrong! It was an _unprovoked assault.”_

Cardin shrugged again. “Why are you crying on _my_ shoulder about it?”

Unlike some of his dim-witted teammates, he hadn’t quite fallen under Peony’s spell. Not quite. Not yet.

“Because I hear she’s been quite harsh to you. The four on one fight between her and your team – I’ve seen the video. That last kick she delivered to your face was unnecessary, and done in a way to simply show off.”

Cardin’s hand drifted to his own face, where her foot had struck him and sent him flying. “I guess,” he mumbled.

Peony sidled closer to him, pity swimming across her features. “It must have been so humiliating,” she cooed, touching his forearm now. “So _painful.”_

“Yeah, it was,” the large boy grumbled. “And I’m sure she placed an unfair strike during the snowball fight a few weeks ago.”

No strike had been unfair. It was just another thing to blemish the perfect Pyrrha Nikos’s name.

Peony reached for his other arm. “That’s terrible! I can’t _believe_ people fall for this façade of perfection she always puts on!”

“I know.” Being listened to and pitied on by a beautiful girl had never happened to Cardin Winchester. He enjoyed it. He wanted it to last. “She’s such a freak and a know-it-all.” He adopted a mock high-pitched tone, _“Faunus can see in the dark, that’s how General Lagune lost the battle, blah blah blah, I’m so perfect, how about the rest of you just give up already?”_

Peony nodded in understanding. “She’s insufferable, isn’t she? Famous or not, she’s a fake and I’m not afraid of her. We’re unique in that can see straight through her – and that’s why she hates us!”

“Yeah!” Cardin cheered, enjoying the anti-Pyrrha rally. Though he’d never admit to it, he had lacked confidence in his skills for a long time, having only just scraped a place at Beacon – all the other academies rejected him. Then Pyrrha “Fucking Perfect” Nikos came along, to _Beacon_ of all places. Thank God there was Jaune “Useless” Arc to make himself feel better.

Except Jaune “Useless” Arc was fast becoming Jaune “Gaining-Quite-A-Lot-Of-Potential-Now” Arc. 

Again that was thanks to Pyrrha “Fucking Perfect” Nikos.

Peony tossed her curls over one shoulder. “Say, since we share a common enemy, I have a plan which I’m willing to share with you.”

Cardin leaned forward, closer to her face.

“Go on.”

“Are you aware of the party on Saturday?”

He frowned. “Coco Adel’s house party?”

It had quickly circulated around the first and second years that Coco’s parents were away, and she was seizing the opportunity with both hands to throw her “first party in absolutely ages”. It was thanks to some more eavesdropping and Yang’s loud, excited chatter that Peony found out as much as she had about it. 

Her plan had slowly but surely formed, but it soon became apparent that she would need help. Her team were unwilling, as ever. Cardin was her best bet.

“That’s the one,” she answered. “It’s going to be big. Nobody in their right minds would miss it! Including our good friend Pyrrha.”

She told him her plan.

Cardin grinned.

It was a prank, and a good one. A hard-hitting one. It would teach the red-haired know-it-all not to act like a perfect little angel all the time, not to kick him in the face or throw a snowball at him ever again. 

But Jaune had warned him not to mess with his friends. Jaune had saved his life.

Jaune had also kicked him in the crotch. And thought way too highly of himself just because he was Pyrrha Nikos’s boyfriend and was getting better at fighting.

Besides, they wouldn’t even have to know it was them. And just because Jaune had saved his life once, Cardin decided that this would be the final prank. It would be big and funny enough to conclude it all.

He would make sure he and his team enjoyed it thoroughly.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Important note time!  
This is being posted later than planned because life got in the way, basically. Also, this is only the first section of the original chapter I was writing. Since it was getting too lengthy, and time was ticking, I split it in two. I know this one's quite short, but it was the best place to dissect it. No worries though, the second portion will be posted on Monday or Tuesday, as that's almost done.

Jaune's mother: I called her Solène because it sounds like 'solar', thus following Monty's colour naming rule, and I think most people in Jaune's family are referenced to the colour yellow, in some French way. I'll get more onto that next chapter. 'Solène' actually means 'religious', linking to Joan of Arc. Yes, I do a lot of research for this fic :D

Now, REJOICE IN THE PEONY BLOOM HATE CLUB  
:D :D :D


	26. Their Only Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune takes Pyrrha to visit his mother. Certain backstories are revealed, such as a more in depth reason as to why he never went to combat school.

For once, Jaune knew exactly where they were going. They took the right monorail, departed at the right station, went down the right streets. He had warned that since they would be walking most of the way, it would take them quite a while to get to their destination. But Pyrrha didn’t mind. She was with him and her legs could easily carry her for that distance.

The home of the Arc family stood on a quiet street on the outskirts of Vale. It was a tall house, with the typical Valean architecture of sloping rooves and wide friezes. It looked like a typical family home, but surely it couldn’t have been big enough to have fitted ten people in there?

Jaune knocked on the door twice before producing a key from his pocket and letting himself in. He held the door open for Pyrrha to step past. She gazed at her surroundings in fascination.

So this was where Jaune grew up.

Bright walls covered in family photographs, the stairs up ahead and the kitchen on the right and living area to the left. Both rooms were wide and spacious, particularly the kitchen, but none of the furniture looked particularly expensive. The TV was small and box-like, sofas old and patched. There were dents in the wooden chairs and dining table. Not that any of this was a bad thing – it gave it more of a sense of history, proof that this house had once been full of children.

Jaune went to the bottom of the stairs and called for his mother. His voice bounced around the house, so full of memories yet now oddly empty.

A thump came from upstairs, along with footsteps.

“MOM!”

A quieter, rich voice called back from above. “Jauney, is that you?”

“WHO ELSE?”

“Ahh, good. I’ll be down in a minute, honey! I’m just collecting the laundry!”

“OKAY.”

“No need to shout like that! I can hear you!”

“JUST MAKING SURE.”

While they waited, Pyrrha took the opportunity to examine the many photographs dotted on the walls or furniture. They all included at least one member of the Arc family, at varying ages. In several pictures was that man again, the same one in Goodwitch’s office. The only difference was that here he was slightly older, and always smiling. Jaune’s smile.

She already knew who it was, but she felt the need to ask anyway.

“Is this your father?”

She beckoned to a more specific picture, a large one with the entire family beaming together outside the house. The children were all quite young, the oldest looking to be no more than Ruby’s age. The man stood behind the brood, smiling proudly.

Jaune nodded, eyes lingering on his father’s face.

“He looks like you,” Pyrrha offered.

He nodded again.

“I saw his picture in Goodwitch’s office.”

He gave a short laugh. “Yeah, it was kind of awkward having to talk about everything with my dad watching.”

Pyrrha chuckled with him. That was why she hid her coronet when they…

She distracted herself from that by scanning the picture for Jaune. A triumphant smile tugged at her lips.

“Is that you?” she said, pointing to a toddler with bright blond hair and donning a blue sweater that was far too big for him, held in the arms of one of the older girls.

He giggled. “Yep. I think I’m about two years old in that. My mom was actually heavily pregnant with my little sister at the time.” He beckoned to the woman in question, standing behind her children with her husband, belly hidden from view.

Pyrrha looked around now to find some more pictures of her boyfriend. There were a lot of girls, all with varying shades of blonde hair, at different ages. Babies, kids, teenagers, a couple of wedding photos from those who had now married and even started families of their own. There were pictures of different children, the modern clarity of the photo suggesting it had been taken recently – she realised they were Jaune’s nephews and nieces.

The images with Jaune in them were dotted all over the place, in no specific order. There was him as a wide-eyed baby, the only way to be told that he was a boy by the pale blue blanket swaddled around him.

“You were a cute baby,” she mumbled.

He followed her gaze, chuckling. “I was a _loud_ baby. They say that during the first week of my life I just cried and cried.”

“Ah, well, things haven’t changed then.”

“Hey!” He nudged her in the ribs, and she nudged him back, laughing together.

There were more pictures of Jaune, alone or with his sisters or parents, looking slightly older in each one. A chubby-faced toddler who gazed up at the camera in confusion, a laughing five-year-old, a grinning eleven-year-old, each one with sparkling blue eyes and a messy blond mop, some with varying length. Though his features became more defined and mature with each picture, Pyrrha could tell that he had been quite a small child. There was a school photo of a fourteen-year-old him and his entire class, and he barely reached the shoulder of the tallest kid. Amazingly, within three years he had rocketed past six feet.

She found herself stopping at another family photo. It had the same Jaune as the school photo, along with his seven sisters, sitting around the kitchen table with a birthday cake in the middle. The mother was nowhere to be seen, supposedly the one holding the camera. All eight kids still smiled, but it was forced and didn’t quite reach their eyes.

Wistfully, Jaune looked up at the picture himself. “That was taken on my fifteenth birthday.”

“I don’t mean to seem insensitive but…you don’t look very happy.”

“That’s because it was my first birthday without my dad.”

_Oh._

Pyrrha supposed she should have seen that coming, and the revelation sank deep within her like a sword impaling her stomach. Sometime between the school photo and this birthday snap, Jaune’s father had died. She had known for a while that he was fatherless, but couldn’t quite gather when it had happened since he didn’t like to talk about it. 

Her hand crept into his, squeezing it.

She had lost her mother over seven years ago, Ruby had snatches of memories of hers, and Yang never knew her own. His wound was practically fresh. He had more memories of his father. So it hurt more. It still did.

Thumping footsteps rushed down the stairs as Mrs Arc and a basket of laundry made an entrance. She smiled at them from behind the messy pile of bedsheets.

“Hello, Jauney – and Pyrrha.”

Pyrrha smiled back. “Hello, Mrs Arc.”

The woman disappeared for a moment to leave the sheets somewhere for the time being. She returned, beaming, to envelop her son in a huge hug. A short woman, her eyes peeked just above his shoulder as they hugged. Her shoulder-length hair curled at the ends and was of a darker blonde than his, and streaked with grey. The two shared the same eyes, and Jaune seemed to have inherited some of her soft features. Other than that, he looked a lot like his father. 

Faint lines creased Mrs Arc’s face, but for a woman who had seven almost-adult children, she looked remarkably young. Pyrrha supposed she had her first daughter early on.

When they released each other, Mrs Arc greeted Pyrrha with a kiss on both cheeks, the West Valean tradition. It was an odd custom, Pyrrha thought. But then, Jaune had expressed his own surprise when she told him about the Coastal Mistralian tradition of plate-smashing at weddings.

Mrs Arc led them to the kitchen where she started making some drinks. Jaune offered to help, but the older woman insisted she do it since she rarely got to see him anymore.

“It can get awfully lonely sometimes,” she said over the breathy roar of the kettle – on a stove! “All of my babies have flown the nest except Afrodille. Two more years and she’ll be gone too.”

“We all visit as often as we can.”

“It’s still not the same. At least some of you are still in Vale. But with Hélène in Mistral and Primevère in Atlas, they rarely get the chance to come home. And two more of your sisters want to leave for another kingdom, and when _you_ graduate I expect you’ll be travelling around the world on missions just like your father.”

Jaune scratched the back of his head with a rueful smile. Yes, that was what he wanted to do. Unlike his father he wouldn’t keep on having children until he achieved the long-awaited son (and then the accidental daughter afterwards), and then be home so rarely he hardly got the chance to teach said son how to at least be competent in battle when he had the rest of his large family wanting to spend time with him as well. 

His mother had now directed the conversation elsewhere. “Pyrrha, Jaune tells me you’re far away from home. How are your family with that?”

“My father was apprehensive at first,” said Pyrrha.

By ‘apprehensive’, she meant furious. When she told him that she didn’t want to continue her studies in Mistral, he exploded into a rant about how she was too young to live alone so far from home, how in Mistral he could keep a closer eye on her progress, how Haven was just as good as Beacon, Mistral and Haven this, Mistral and Haven that… It had taken one of her own rare bursts of anger to put her foot down. Angry that she was too idolised in Mistral to make genuine friendships and that her only hope was moving away. 

As disgruntled as he was at the idea, her father did seem to have more confidence in it since she was still one of the best students, and that she genuinely was happier. However, she hadn’t told him that she had a boyfriend. Not yet.

The kettle whistled. Mrs Arc began pouring the water out into mugs. “Well, I would be too if Jaune wanted to leave Vale at his age. Heck, I was apprehensive when Hélène went to Mistral – unlike Atlas, it has a completely different time zone!”

“Yeah, it’s six hours ahead.” That had been one of the major downsides of moving to Vale – the jetlag. The other was the cooler climate.

Mrs Arc set the steaming mugs on the table and the three sat around it, sipping their drinks. She asked the two teens how school was, and how their friends were, and what the exchange students were like. A half hour later, this had somehow turned into Mrs Arc delivering a whole monologue to Pyrrha about her wonderful son, almost as if she was advertising him to her.

“You know he’s a very gifted musician.”

While Jaune grumbled in embarrassment, Pyrrha offered an interested smile.

“He plays the guitar–” she began.

“Yes, he plays the guitar very well. I _did_ encourage him to join a band when a year ago. There were a group of boys his age looking for a guitarist, but he never approached them.”

“That’s because they were some of the most popular kids at school,” Jaune muttered into his coffee.

“That shouldn’t deter you, you were talented enough! Surely that’s all the matters!”

Her son mumbled what sounded like “Here we go again”, but she happily moved onto glorifying another of his many talents.

“He plays the piano too!” she chirped.

Pyrrha stared at him then, a look that clearly said, “You didn’t tell me that!”

“Only a little,” Jaune explained with a shrug. “Some of my sisters taught me.”

 _“And_ he can dance!” Mrs Arc went on, practically glowing with pride. 

The redhead laughed. “That I’m aware of. He wowed us all at the dance last semester–”

“Ah, yes, the dance at which you were his date.” The woman beamed, eyes creasing at the corners. “When he told me about that in his letters, I hoped he would ask you out properly eventually.” 

Pyrrha slid a look at Jaune, who had rested his face in his hands in an attempt to hide his burning cheeks. 

“That’s very nice of you to say so, Mrs Arc,” she said, and laughed nervously.

The conversation now drifted to them as a couple and how it was going, and then about Pyrrha. Mrs Arc was aware that her son’s girlfriend was a famed tournament victor, as her comment when they first met was, “Forgive me, but you seem familiar…” before realising that she _had_ seen her before – on a cereal box. 

It wasn’t long before the topic shifted back onto the wonderful – and ever mortified – Jaune, when Pyrrha mentioned the reasoning behind his unorthodox ball attire.

Mrs Arc’s entire being lit up. “So you wore a _dress_ for her? Aw, Jauney! That’s so nice of you! See, Pyrrha, he’s a really sweet boy. He’ll look after you–”

_“Mooom!”_

It wasn’t until nearly an hour later that she decided it was time to prepare supper. She had talked so much that she still had nearly half a cup left of coffee that was now too cold to drink.

Jaune didn’t offer his services that time, in a bid to not have to sit through another embarrassing speech about himself. He led Pyrrha up the stairs.

Doors lined the walls, all closed as most no longer had any occupants. There was another flight of stairs leading to the attic, but Jaune didn’t take her up there. He headed straight for a door near the corner, plastered in multi-coloured star stickers arranged to spell out his name. Some had peeled or even fallen off over time.

He paused with his hand on the handle, and looked at Pyrrha sheepishly.

“Um…I’ve never actually taken a girl into my room before. Save for my mom and my sisters, of course. And my nieces, I suppose. But even then I didn’t really like any of them coming in. So, er, what I’m trying to say is…”

Pyrrha grinned up at him. “I’ll be the first non-relative girl you’ve let in there.”

“Er, yes that too. I was actually going to say that it’ll likely be a bit of mess in there. I’m not used to girls coming in so I never really made tidying a priority.”

She rolled her eyes. “That much shows back in our dorm, Jaune.” She referred to the scattered rubbish beneath his bed and disorderliness of his desk. In credit to him, he had been getting better since spending a few months with Ren, who hinted his despair at the mess early on, while Nora bluntly voiced it for him.

The door was opened, and she was led inside. What struck her first was how small it was; if she were to stretch her arms, her hands would probably meet either wall. What struck her second was that it wasn’t untidy at all, contrary to Jaune’s words; the neatly-made bed tucked against the wall, the spotless carpet, cardboard boxes crammed with comics and merchandise lined the wall in a single, perfect line. Even the posters seemed like they were displayed in an art gallery rather than on a teenage boy’s bedroom wall.

Jaune gaped at the sight. “I should have known she’d do that.”

“Your mom cleans your room for you?” Pyrrha mumbled. She couldn’t remember a time when her mother had done that. Perhaps she had, when she was too young to do it herself. And her father demanded neatness at all times, as it “cleanses the mind and soul, thus enhancing performance in battle”.

“Not all the time,” Jaune replied. “I used to get grounded quite a lot for not tidying it myself though. But it’s not like I can help it; this room used to be a closet before I got too old to share with the girls.”

Pyrrha couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live with so many people in such a small place as this house. Houses in Mistral were generally bigger, and she’d only ever had to live with one or two other people. In comparison, her house felt huge. She was impressed that somehow the Arcs had managed to cram everything in, but with children fledged and a father gone, the place was next to empty. 

They sat on the bed and talked. They were in a bedroom, alone, but that was all they did, aside from some kisses. In a house full of memories, Jaune happily recalled some from his childhood. Pyrrha returned with a few of her own, and noticed a stark difference between the two. While Jaune’s often involved his family and playing and days out, hers involved battle and training. Rarely had she ever been on a ‘family day out’ with her parents, perhaps only for the odd birthday. Training had always been _the_ priority in her life. Her scars came from a failed dodge or a misplaced parry. Jaune’s from falling off climbing frames, climbing rocks and trees (and falling), running in fields (and falling). Only one mark came from training, and it was his most precious.

He showed it to her, now that they were on that subject. Rolling his shirt sleeve up to expose his shoulder, he pointed to a faint streak that ran across. Pyrrha felt guilty for never noticing it until now, but as his muscle grew and skin stretched, the scar was fading away.

“I got that from training with my dad,” he explained. “We used wooden swords, my aura wasn’t unlocked and all that. He blocked my attack a bit too forcefully, my sword snapped and a piece of it flew into my arm.” He pulled the sleeve back down with a chuckle. “Dad tried to stop me from crying, but I ran inside, howling, with a bloodied arm, and my mom had a fit.”

Pyrrha allowed herself a small giggle, but a more solemn thought had occurred to her. One that she would have to voice carefully.

“Jaune…why exactly did you never go to combat school?”

The silence that followed wasn’t a good sign, nor was his staring down at his hands, smile vanished.

“Because the whole point of combat school is to learn how to fight,” she went on. 

“I wasn’t good enough,” was all Jaune said.

Pyrrha squared her shoulders. “I don’t believe that.”

He scowled, and she continued hastily, “I mean, look how much you’ve progressed this year! I think you could have been a truly exceptional fighter if you’d just started earlier!”

“I _did._ I just…” He expelled a frustrated sigh. “Look, I don’t like talking about it, but I’ll tell you because it’ll make you understand – and I trust you with my life.”

Pyrrha shifted her legs beneath her, listening intently.

Jaune leant against the wall. “Ok…well…I’ve always wanted to be a warrior. Before they had loads of kids, Dad would have enough time to tell my older sisters stories about his ancestors, particularly war stories. They then told me, and sometimes Dad himself had the time and energy to tell me as well. Hearing these from such a young age was what inspired me. And Dad himself, slaying monsters somewhere, by protecting the kingdom he protected us. I wanted to join him. Plus, he could do some pretty cool moves with his weapon – a sword and shield too, though bigger than mine. I think he used dust as well, but he didn’t like to waste it by demonstrating to us.

“I was very vocal about my dream. Dad was fine with it, proud even. Mom, less so. She worried so much every time he went away, and she didn’t want me to do the same. See, she actually lost her brother some years before I was born, and he was a really good huntsman, so it all kinda freaked her out since then. None of the girls wanted to be fighters, then I, the only boy, did. Whenever Dad was home, she didn’t let him train me as often as either of us would have liked. I wasn’t allowed to go to combat school, thanks to her saying so and my lack of skills. And when Dad died…”

He stopped. He couldn’t say anymore. He just couldn’t.

A hand held his, warm and strong, thumb stroking his knuckles. An arm wrapped around his shoulders. Lips pressed against his cheek. He rested his forehead on Pyrrha’s. It gave him the strength to continue.

“She grew more protective over me. I still trained, though. I watched videos and read things. Though it wasn’t quite the same as having an actual person teach me. That’s why I got into Beacon the way I did. I thought I would be taught properly.” He looked at her with a small, rueful smile. “I guess I was in the end.”

“Was your mom angry when you revealed that you were going to Beacon?”

“Of course. She was heartbroken. I very nearly didn’t go because of how bad I felt. But you know what? When I said that I wouldn’t go just for her, she told me that she would rather I lived a short but happy life than a long and miserable one. I’d shown her how far I was willing to go in order to fullfil my dream, so she let go – because she loves me.”

Pyrrha nodded. Letting go was one of the ultimate ways to display one’s love for another. How many times had she let Jaune go in pursuit of Weiss? How many times had she let go because he asked her to leave the Peony situation alone?

How many times had _Peony_ let go?

Zilch.

The girl didn’t know what love was. Not really.

Mrs Arc’s voice rang up the stairs, alerting them that supper was served. Jaune slipped off the bed and kissed Pyrrha on the lips.

“Thank you,” he said.

“What for?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Helping me. Listening to me.”

She shrugged back. It had been her promise to herself to make as many friends as possible and do whatever she could for them, to prove she was a good friend too, to keep them.

“What kind of friend would I have been if I hadn’t?”

 

The table was large and surrounded by many chairs. Only four were filled at dinner, and even Jaune admitted that it felt oddly quiet to not be surrounded by family or other students. His little sister Afrodille was home now, and he greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the forehead. Pyrrha bid her a friendly hello.

She hadn’t met any of Jaune’s sisters yet, only seen their photos on the hallway walls. She could remember seeing this girl – long, blonde hair, wide blue eyes, almost a like a younger, female replica of Jaune. Almost.

She didn’t talk quite as much. She rarely joined in on the dinnertime conversations – starring yet more of Mrs Arc’s praise of her son. Instead she gazed shyly at Pyrrha, slowly eating as she did so. Apparently she knew _exactly_ who her brother was dating. As a result, she acted as many before her often had, costing Pyrrha to have a lonely life – she left as soon as dinner was over, too shy to remain in the same room as the famous Invincible Girl.

Jaune offered his girlfriend a comforting smile. “She’ll warm up to you, don’t worry.”

They helped clear the plates away, just as a bright white flash burst through the window, quickly followed by an almighty rumble of thunder. Jaune screamed and nearly dropped his plate.

And then the rain came. It didn’t drum like normal rain, it _sang_ in a chorus of drop upon drop smashing to Remnant. Looking out through the window, with each flash that lit up the dark evening, it was impossible to differentiate the droplets – it fell almost like a single, solid sheet.

“Aw man,” Jaune groaned. “We’ve got to walk back in that. Mom, can we borrow an umbrella?”

“I don’t think an umbrella will be much good in a downpour like that. And besides, no you may not. Nor will you be walking back to Beacon tonight.”

“Mom?”

She smiled, almost as if the rain was actually a very good thing. “I think it’s best if you both stay here for the night. It’s dark anyway, even if the rain stops soon.”

“Mom, I’m huntsman in training and Pyrrha’s a four-time combat champion.”

He jumped at another flash and roar of thunder.

“We’ll be fine,” he finished.

Mrs Arc gave her head an authoritative shake. “No. You’re staying here tonight. It’s Friday anyway. If it were a school night, I’d let you go. Besides, I’ve missed having you here, Jaune. And it’s nice to have Pyrrha around too.”

The redhead fiddled with a strand of her hair. “I don’t want to put you through the trouble, Mrs Arc.”

“Nonsense! All the beds are ready to be slept in anyway. There’re two bedrooms you can choose from. Jaune can show you while I find you some night clothes.”

While she disappeared to the next room, humming to herself, Jaune led the way back upstairs.

“Don’t mind her,” he said. “She likes having people around. ‘The more, the merrier’ as she always says.”

He showed her the two bedrooms Mrs Arc had referred to. They had once accommodated two girls each, as evidenced by the spotless twin beds. The second flight of stairs, he said, led to the attic where the last three girls had been housed, now only Afrodille. 

Aside from colour and some of the furniture, the two designated rooms were practically identical. Naturally, Pyrrha chose the one that was closest to Jaune’s.

The room was like a hotel suite. Crisply prepared beds, wardrobes and a chest of drawers and a vanity, all personal belongings taken with the owners as they moved out. Out of interest, Pyrrha inquired as to who the room had belonged.

“Hélène and Lucille,” Jaune replied. “Number three and number four.”

“Where are they now?”

“Like Mom said, Hélène’s in Mistral. She’s in the fashion industry, girly stuff. Lucille’s a receptionist in a hotel. You know The Prince of Vale?” 

Pyrrha shook her head.

“Oh, well, that’s where she works.”

Ignoring the groaning thunder and shrill rain, they talked for a while about his sisters, Pyrrha being particularly intrigued to know where Jaune’s various skills had come from. It was revealed that his eldest sister, Marguerite, was a musician and had taught a lot of the others the guitar and the piano, which then filtered down to Jaune. She was now a music teacher in an elementary school. 

All of the girls had had an interest in dancing, though Jaune admitted that they learnt mostly ballet, and he had tried to copy the twirls and spins when he was very little.

“And then modern dancing came along as more of them became teenagers,” he said. “And we’re a close family, often doing stuff together, and I liked to join in. They taught me the routines from their dance classes, and so here I am now, team JNPR’s leader and choreographer.”

Pyrrha giggled. “You know, I wish I had siblings. I guess my friends are the closest I’ll ever have to that.”

“I’ve always tried to treat my friends as if they were siblings. Tried to. I can now with Weiss, I haven’t been able to with you for a long time. And although you’re all the same age as me, I’m used to that as well – there’s not even a year between me and Oralie, sister number six. And Yang’s a little like sister number five, Tanaisie – brash and outgoing.”

“And what about Ruby? She’s the same age as Afrodille, isn’t she? But Ruby’s more…talkative.”

“Heh. You’d think wouldn’t you? No, that’s how I could befriend Ruby so easily, it was a bit like having another little sister. But one that won’t shut up about weapons.”

They laughed again, losing track of the time. They realised how late it was when Mrs Arc tapped on the door and presented Pyrrha with a neatly folded set of might clothes, before advising that they get to bed. She disappeared downstairs again, Pyrrha measured the pale pink pyjamas against herself (the Arcs evidently weren’t used to tall girls as these were two sizes too small, but they would do) and Jaune got up to leave. He paused by the door as a thought struck him, and he looked back at Pyrrha, ears reddening.

“You know, um…if you want, you can sleep in my room.” He swallowed. “With me.”

The redhead bit back a smile. There was something so satisfying about hearing Jaune make the first step. Proof that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

But what about Mrs Arc? Would they get into trouble for sharing a room?

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “Your mom’s expecting me to be here. I don’t want to seem like I’m throwing it all back in her face.”

“You’re not. These beds are always made regardless of whether a visitor’s coming or not. She won’t mind. Besides, we may not have some time alone in our dorm again…” The red spilled from his ears to the rest of his face. “W-we don’t have to do anything, of course!” He laughed nervously. “I just thought…if we shared a bed, it would be…nice.”

He did have a point.

Pyrrha smiled at him, coyly, almost seductive. “Alright then.”

Giggling, they scuttled across to the hall to his room opposite. He pulled one of the largest boxes of comics from the wall and placed it against the door. It seemed heavy enough, judging by the way he kept it low to the ground and staggered as he carried it.

He grinned at her. “Now no one will disturb us.” 

They kissed, fiercely. Somehow Jaune’s shirt ended up on the floor. Somehow Pyrrha’s skirt fell from her hips. A tangle of arms locked them in place, caressing, hinting. There were moans, groans, giggles, and then a new voice joined them.

“Jaune, I’ve brought you some…” 

The door hit its barricade. In a rush of panic, Jaune leapt across the room to fling himself at it. The door slammed shut under his weight.

“Mom, what have I told you about knocking?!”

Mrs Arc’s voice floated through the door, calm and sweet, “Honey, I just came to bring you some hot chocolate. Don’t tell me you’ve gone off bedtime hot chocolate!”

“N-no. I just… You can’t come in right now.” He threw a panicked look at Pyrrha for help. She was too busy reassembling her clothing.

His mother inhaled deeply. “Jaune, are you masturbating? Is that why you won't let me in?”

Pyrrha froze and supressed a burst of laughter.

Jaune reddened and squeaked, “No, Mom, I am not masturbating!”

“It's just you've been like this in the past during your...alone time." There was a brief pause as she considered other reasons. "Is Pyrrha in there with you? I’ve brought her hot chocolate as well.”

Scarlet and mortified, Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose, debating whether to answer at all.

Unluckily for him, his mother wasn’t stupid. “She _is_ in there, isn’t she?”

Pyrrha swallowed. “Hello, Mrs Arc.” 

She felt bad, despite Jaune’s words earlier. This was a lovely, welcoming woman, and here she was about to do _something_ in her house.

But Mrs Arc showed no sign of anger with her next words. “Alright, Jaune, have you got protection?”

“M-mom!”

“Because you need to respect a girl. Remember the safe sex talk your father gave you? If you don’t have any condoms, I’ll give you some.”

_“What?”_

“You know what I always say: be prepared. I gave them to the older girls when they brought boys home, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before you started doing the same. With girls of course. Or boys, I suppose, but more likely girls.”

Pyrrha smothered her hands over her mouth, ready to explode into a laughing fit.

Jaune groaned. “I cannot _believe_ we’re having this conversation, Mom. Now of all times!”

“It was going to happen at some point. Now take the hot chocolate before it gets cold and I’ll get you the condoms.”

Sighing heavily, Jaune wrestled his shirt back onto his body, pulled the box away from the door before throwing it open.

His mother smiled up at him, and held out a tray of two steaming mugs, one splashed with butterflies, the other an _X-Ray and Vav_ comic strip. Jaune took them both, trying not to tremble with the shock of his mother’s guess.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said cheerfully, as if the prospect of what her son and his girlfriend was about to do was as ordinary as doing the laundry.

Jaune handed the butterfly mug to Pyrrha. He took a sip from his, and hot, sweet, delicious chocolate oozed down his throat. He had missed this. He was definitely introducing bedtime hot chocolate – just like this – to Beacon. Only Nora and Ruby wouldn’t be allowed it, certainly not at night.

“I’m really sorry about that,” he mumbled, taking another sip – and then a gulp.

“It’s ok. She’s very accepting.”

“I guess she’s just used to it. I think after about Lucille bringing a boy home, she just accepted it all. She always told us that we needed to learn at some point, and that was ok so long as both sides were definitely ready, that we were sensible and no younger than almost seventeen.”

Mrs Arc returned a moment later, pressing a box of condoms into Jaune’s hand. The boy grimaced; this had to be one of the most embarrassing moments of his entire life.

She jabbed an authoritative finger at her son’s chest. “You’ll be gentle with her, won’t you? Don’t rush.”

Red bloomed across his cheeks to his ears. “I know, Mom.”

She gave his hair an affectionate ruffle before turning to Pyrrha. “You’ll be fine, honey. He’s a sweet boy, he won’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with–”

_“Mooom!”_

“–since he’s grown up surrounded by girls, he understands how they want to be treated–”

“Please stop!”

“–but he is an eighteen-year-old boy full of testosterone so tell him if he’s being a little too… _vigorous,_ shall we say? I do know what boys at that age are like, no matter their temperament.”

“Mom, I am _begging_ you! Besides, Pyrrha knows all this.”

“That’s all very well, but as your mother it’s my responsibility to impart this to you and your girlfriend.” She opened the door to leave, casting back a warm smile. “All I ask of you both is to not be too loud. Goodnight.”

The door swung shut behind her.

With a humiliated groan, Jaune sank onto his bed and buried his face in his hands, the unopened little box falling onto his lap. “I am so sorry about that,” he repeated.

Pyrrha sat beside him. “Don’t worry, Jaune. She had our best interests at heart.” She glanced at the box. “Though I have to say…I don’t think I’m ready for…that. Not yet, anyway.”

“That’s ok. I’m not either – certainly not now.”

They sipped their hot chocolate in silence, thunder dying away as the storm marched off to declare war on some other unfortunate place, taking its light infantry of rain with it.

Pyrrha couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this particular beverage. It was very unhealthy, and she’d been picky about such things early on in the year. It took a lot of persuading from everyone else that the occasional ‘treat’ wouldn’t hurt.

Plus, the drink was good.

Jaune downed his in one last big gulp, leaving behind a foamy moustache above his lip. He licked it away as he crossed to his dresser. He glanced back at his girlfriend, still sipping away.

“Pyrrha, where are those pyjamas my mom gave you?”

She swallowed a whole mouthful as realisation struck. “I…left them in the other room.” She stood up to retrieve them, but Jaune grabbed her arm.

“Don’t worry about it. They were too small for you anyway.”

She cocked her head. “I can live with that.”

A drawer was pulled open and substitute retrieved anyway. Pyrrha took the large shirt, measuring it against herself to find that it reached halfway down her thighs like a minidress. She supposed it was better than the previous offering anyway; those pyjamas _had_ looked like they would be too tight…

Jaune grabbed some clothes of his own, and looked at her shyly.

“Uh…I’ll look away while you get changed.”

He turned, eyeless back facing her, and Pyrrha made sure she was quick to switch clothes. She kept all her underwear on, and the shirt slipped over her head and right down her body like a loose dress. She supposed it was too big even for Jaune, but it was better than wearing uncomfortable tight night clothes. She freed her hair of its ponytail and began folding her own clothes.

“Done,” she chirped.

Jaune turned, and his eyes travelled up and down her body, lingering particularly on her long legs. He didn’t suppose he’d ever seen so much bare leg on her.

“You look…nice.” He could have said something else, something far more blunt and unlike him to say, something Neptune or Sun or Yang would say.

Pyrrha registered where exactly it was he was looking, and her hands instinctively flew down to the hem of the shirt to pull it further down. 

Jaune blushed, looking away. He couldn’t look at her face, so he directed his stare to the floor. “Sorry. Er, I-I’ll get changed now too, I guess.”

Like before, Pyrrha turned away for him to dress. This wasn’t an issue they’d ever had to deal with back at Beacon. There, they would change in a bathroom cubicle, or under their bedsheets if all the cubicles were taken, or in one of the two dorm closets like how Nora had once tried.

There was some rustling, the scrape of a zipper, more rustling, then, “Ok, done.”

Pyrrha turned back around, expecting to see him donning another onesie. Not so – instead he wore a black undershirt with a pair of blue tartan pyjama pants.

He shrugged. “Figured that since we were sharing the bed, we’d get a little hot.” His trademark nervous laugh warbled from his throat. “A-as in temperature, I mean.”

The lights were switched off, plunging them into almost total darkness. Since he knew his own room well, he crossed to the bed easily, despite the lack of sight. He peeled open the bed covers, and took Pyrrha’s hand to help guide her through the dark and into the bed. She sighed happily, first at the oddly satisfying sensation of cool sheets gliding across her bare legs, then at Jaune’s warm weight joining beside her. There was a bit of shuffling as they made themselves comfortable. The box of condoms fell to the floor.

“Well, goodnight,” Jaune murmured, not quite sure what else to say.

“Goodnight,” Pyrrha returned, before curling both her arms around his body. He accepted the gesture and hugged her back. 

There was a moment of silence, then: “Jaune, aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?”

He chuckled. “I think I can oblige that.”

He kissed her, swiftly, on the lips. He decided that had been too quick, too brusque, too soulless. So he kissed her again, for longer and with a little more force behind it. He pulled away, but Pyrrha swept in for a third. This time neither wanted to part. It only became more passionate as mouths moved and caressed, never leaving the other. 

Hands joined in, wanting a piece of the action. At first, it was just stroking and holding, then they disappeared under clothing, meeting bare skin. They went everywhere, enough to spark more intense, wonderful sensations and for things to become audible. Groans and whimpers were supressed to voiceless gasps and pants. Climaxing screams were clenched to no more than a voice crack on Jaune’s part, while Pyrrha’s sounded like a long, heavy sigh.

It wasn’t long before the blissful afterglow lulled them to sleep, locked in each other’s arms. 

 

____________________________________________________________________  
Lots of notes for this one, so here we go!

I believe all the kingdoms have regions from which different languages/traditions originate. West Valean = French, Coastal Mistral = Greek (fitting as Mistral looks to be a very coastal kingdom).

Volume 2 Episode 3 - there's a scene when Weiss goes to the CCT, you see the crests of the four kingdoms with what looks like a clock behind each one, showcasing the different time zones. I think Mistral's crest is the three swords (as it alludes to their tournament, and - since it seems to allude to Ancient Greece and Rome - gladiators), and it's clock looks like it's six hours ahead of Vale and Atlas.

For a long time I have theorized that Jaune's father is dead. I thought of many a circumstance and analysed the evidence, and I recently discovered that I wasn't the only one thinking along those lines. Check out the RWBY theory Youtube video in question by **JAC OneManBand** for more info and proof!

I reckon that in order to get into a combat school like Signal, kids first have to have a few classes in simple combat when they're younger, at least to learn some basic athletesism (is that a word?) and flips and somersaults and other useful moves. It would help explain why Ruby learnt so quick - perhaps she could do those moves, just needed a push to apply them to combat and stuff?

Jaune's sisters do indeed follow the colour rule. Like I said last chapter, they all allude to the colour yellow.  
1\. Marguerite - French for **'daisy'.** '  
2\. Primevère - French for **''primrose'.** '  
3\. Hélène - French form of Helen, meaning **'light'.** ' I put her as the sister living in Mistral as a reference to Helen of Troy.  
4\. Lucille - French form of Lucy/Lucilla, also meaning **'light'.**  
5\. Tanaisie - French for **''tansy'.**  
6\. Oralie - French form of Auriel, meaning **''gold'.** '  
7\. Afrodille - French for **''daffodil'.** '

I always imagined Jaune's mother to be the very loving but embarrassing type who believes that all her children are wonderful. Especially Jaune. He's the only boy, so he's special :3

Alright, that's all off my chest, thank you for reading, it's always appreciated, and see you next time!


	27. Love, Schemes and a Dose of Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teams RWBY and JNPR attend a house party, complete with alcohol and a persistently plotting Peony. Also, Ruby is a legend.

Cool and _très chique,_ Coco Adel was a popular and well-respected individual throughout all of Beacon, first years to seniors. So it was no surprise that her large house in uptown Vale was crammed with partying students on Saturday night. The house, almost like a mansion, was lit up in every room, light flung out of each window as teenager-shaped silhouettes danced behind the glass. Music boomed from within, beat throbbing. The chatter was loud enough to rival the dining hall at the lunch time peak. 

Eight first years gaped up at the vibrant place, most intimidated, some thrilled. The dress code was smart-casual, which was interpreted in varying levels, from Jaune’s button-up shirt and jeans to Weiss’s flimsy, flouncy minidress. She had been advised that white probably wasn’t the wisest option, given how easy it would be for drinks to spill everywhere. The icy heiress insisted that it would be fine and that she would be careful and, most importantly, that she simply _had_ to wear this dress because it matched her heels of choice.

Yang spun to face the group. “So, before we enter, let’s get a few truths out in the open. Who here has been drunk before?”

Five people raised their hands: Nora, Ren, Jaune, Weiss and Yang herself.

Purple eyes widened. “Nora I’m hardly surprised at. But the rest of you, really?”

Weiss shrugged. “My father makes a habit of drinking Prime Atlesian Vodka every night. Naturally, I once tried it.”

Seven pairs of expectant eyes stared at her, waiting for the climax.

She gave in with a sigh. “I vomited after two swigs.”

There were murmurs of understanding or amusement, before Nora piped up with Ren’s story.

“Me and Ren got a hold of some cider in celebration of us both being accepted into Beacon.” Her hands flung our in exaggerative flourishes as her tale increased in grandeur. “We scoured the jungles of Menagerie hunting for the legendary golden leaves of the legendary golden tree of…legends!”

Ren bluntly provided the more realistic account, “We crawled on the sofa pretending to be sloths.”

“But then, Ren fell deathly ill, and only I could save him with a magical potion!”

“I got hungover pretty bad. Nora gave me a strong coffee.”

The two exchanged fond looks, and Yang beckoned for Jaune to relay his experiences.

“My eighteenth during spring break. All of you were there. You would have been too drunk to remember, Yang.”

The blonde brawler grinned at the memory. “I remember you trying to eat a snail.”

“And it was my job to rescue it,” Pyrrha added with an amused grin. “You insisted that it was fine because they’re traditional Valean cuisine. What didn’t make it fine was that it was a common garden snail and _alive.”_

Laughter rippled around the group. Yang clapped her hands together to regain their attention.

“So,” her brash voice boomed. “Only five of us have been properly drunk. The rest have had alcohol and been tipsy, yes?”

There were mumbles and nods of agreement.

“Then we are agreed,” Yang went on, “that experience is the best teacher and that tonight we must ALL get so smashed we won’t be able to tell up from down!”

There were more dubious responses at that, including several of them asking, “But what about Ruby?” The younger girl herself stared at Yang quizzically. 

She audibly blew a stray blonde lock out of her eyes. “Of course Ruby can drink, but not too much. Let’s all keep an eye on her. Ok with that, sis?”

Ruby shrugged and gave her a feeble thumbs-up.

“Then without further ado, let’s get this party started!”

“But, it’s already started…”

As the two teams shuffled or swaggered in, a ninth person quietly followed. Dove Bronzewing scrambled out of his hiding place in the bushes and scurried round to the back of the house. He pushed past laughing, drinking, _taller_ teenagers, down the wide hallway to the rendezvous in the front room. The rest of his team and Peony were already there, beside a coffee table ladled with red plastic cups.

Peony looked as beautiful as ever, her floaty pink dress revealing a generous proportion of her legs and chest. Dove gulped down the envy at his leader with whom the girl had become more closely involved these past few days, and approached them.

“They’re here,” he alerted above the noise. 

Peony took a dainty sip from her plastic cup. Western Valean wine. She would have taken a wine glass to look classier, but Coco had prudently hidden all fragile goods in the attic or any prohibited bedrooms.

“Good,” she purred, rewarding Dove with a flutter of her lashes. “Phase two can begin. Go and watch them now, and make sure you’re discreet.”

When he didn’t move, disheartened at the dismissal, she blew him a kiss. This made him blush and grin with pride, and he disappeared back into the throng of people to do her bidding.

Peony turned to Cardin. “Vodka please.”

From inside his jacket, he pulled out a half bottle of Prime Atlesian Vodka and passed it to her. He had bought it yesterday, as Peony had requested. 

The flower girl grinned at the colourless liquid. If they were careful, the only difference there would be in the drinks was that they would taste watered down. The more intoxicated one became, the less they would taste the alcohol, and so the more vodka one could trick them with. This would eventually lead to an embarrassing night for the unsuspecting victim.

“Russell will inform the group that the drinks are in here,” said Peony, nodding towards the Mohawk kid. “There are a range of drinks here,” she beckoned with her arms to the display of cups on the table, each containing different coloured liquids, “with varying drinks. Only one is Dionysian wine. That’s the one Pyrrha will choose.”

She had, yet again, found this out thanks to her eavesdropping talent. The redhead happened to be chatting with Yang and Nora about alcohol preferences in the locker room on Thursday. Dionysian wine was a very popular beverage in Mistral, particularly the coastal regions.

Peony unscrewed the bottle and poured the clear, innocent-looking liquid into the cup of deep red wine. After a second, she stopped. There was about one shot in there, enough to get things started.

“Now,” she said, gazing up at Cardin. “Remember your part of the plan?”

The older boy nodded, and took a gulp from his beer can. “First I gotta wait till she’s had plenty to drink.”

“Which I’ll make sure of,” Peony finished with a smile. “While you keep her busy, I’ll go for Jaune. Don’t screw up. Ciao, guys!” She swaggered away, vodka bottle in one hand, plastic cup in the other.

Cardin took another swig of his beer, and Russell raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Hey, man, are you ok? You’ve been drinking a lot of that stuff. What is that, like, your third can?” 

“Something like that,” CRDL’s leader grunted, finished the drink and tossed the empty can over his shoulder. He cracked open another. “Fourth.”

Lark showed equal concern for him. “What’s up? You’re downing those things like nothing.”

Cardin finished another huge gulp with a shrug. “Just firing myself up for what I gotta do. That Nikos bitch can be dangerous when she wants to be.”

An evil grin pinched at Russell’s lips. “You’re drinking because you’re _scared?”_

In a surge of anger at the remark, Cardin chucked his beer all over his teammate’s face. While Russell yelped and clawed at his stinging eyes, Lark decided that he really ought to be watching the targeted teams now and promptly left.

“You fucking son of a bitch!” Cardin snapped, shoving the lean boy against the wall. “That’s a perfectly good beer gone to waste! Now go and get that group of sluts and bastards in here!”

Whimpering, a beer-drenched Russell scurried out of the room, while Cardin stormed to the kitchen to replace his drink.

He returned a few minutes later, fresh can in hand, to find that Russell had indeed done as he was bid. His eight least favourite people gathered round the coffee table which was now almost barren of cups. All held one each – save Nora’s two – chatting and laughing, pre-drunk. It was impossible to tell exactly which cup Pyrrha held, but she regularly sipped from it, politely as always.

Deciding that all seemed to be fine so far, Cardin returned to the kitchen for another beer.

 

The Dionysian wine tasted different. In what way exactly, Pyrrha wasn’t sure. But she knew what it was meant to taste like, and this wasn’t quite up to standard. She supposed that it must because it was a cheap knock-off by a lesser-known brand.

Nora and Yang were quick to finish their drinks, and sauntered away to find some more. Weiss politely sipped hers and kept a watchful eye on Ruby. The caped girl tried the contents of her cup, swallowed and grimaced.

“How can you guys drink this stuff?” she spluttered. “It’s disgusting!”

Weiss took the cup and sipped it herself, eyes narrowed and critiquing. “It’s lager,” she said simply. “Hardly for sweettooths such as yourself.” 

More drinks were finished – including the suspicious Dionysian wine and Ruby’s lager which was downed by Jaune – and the group moved to rejoin Nora and Yang in the kitchen. This proved a difficult feat, what with the mass of dancing, drinking teens crammed in the rooms and hallway. It was easy to get separated and prodded and poked and trodden on, drinks were spilt as people crashed into each other. One slurring boy grabbed Blake and threatened to punch her in the face just because she’d been shoved into him and his drink was now all over the floor.

“An’ I don’t care if you’re a _gurl,”_ he added, fist swaying before her nose.

It took a quick intervention on Weiss and Ruby’s part to yank the frozen faunus away. They didn’t see Pyrrha square her shoulders and glare at the boy right in the eye.

“If you had even laid a finger on her,” she said, voice low and dangerous, “I would have punched you so hard your face would no longer be recognisable.”

Smirking, the drunken jock straightened and beckoned with his fingers. “Go on. Do it. I dare you.”

A few pairs of eyes had been drawn to the potential fight. Ordinarily, Pyrrha wouldn’t continue with the encounter any further; she was not one to get involved with needless brawls, as of which Goodwitch was aware. 

But this time she didn’t walk away. 

The movements were quick. She took a step forward, raised a fist – and Jaune’s strong arms locked around her body, dragging her away. His voice pounded down her ear: “NO!”

He also yelled at the other boy to “fuck off”.

Though she didn’t struggle, he kept a firm hold of her right until they reached the kitchen. After pushing through the crowded hall, he released her and pinned her in place by the shoulders.

“Pyrrha, what the hell were you doing?” he hissed, more alarmed than angry. “We already got some trouble after you punched Peony!”

Pyrrha rubbed her temples, closing her eyes to calm herself. “I’m sorry, Jaune. I just…I just felt so angry all of a sudden!”

The threatening air of the boy had sparked something in her, like a switch had been flicked. She had felt so happy before, then the fury, and now the shame falling quickly to sadness… Every emotion felt more intense, more overwhelming. It had to be down to that Dionysian wine that probably wasn’t really Dionysian wine.

Jaune cocked his head to one side. “I’d never have taken you for an angry drunk.”

“No! No, I’m not an angry drunk – as far as I know. Or drunk, for that matter. I’ve only had one drink.”

“Well…” He would have suggested not having any more for a while, but the loud, blaring greeting from the other end of the huge kitchen indicated team SSSN’s arrival and their integration with RWBY and NR. The chatter was excited and full of laughter, all over bottles and cans and plastic cups. Weiss’s eyes were shining as she stood by Neptune, watching his every cool, suave move. Even Ruby was giggling, though there was evident confusion her frowns at the odd bawdy joke. Yang had her arm around a quieter Blake, grandly declaring how she would have “punched that little punk into oblivion”.

Jaune registered how Pyrrha wistfully stared at the scene, a silent beg to join them. This type of social gathering was one she had been denied growing up, and liked to make the most of when it came around.

He relented. “Well, just be careful. Don’t get into any fights, any trouble, any beds…”

“What?”

His face coloured as he spluttered. “As my mom would always say, of course!” He laughed, nervously. “C-c’mon. Let’s, uh, keep on doing whatever it is you do at house parties.”

Hand in hand, they rejoined the group. Neptune surprised Jaune with an overly-pleased _“Duuuuuuuuuude!”,_ which he was said to preserve only for close friends, before wrapping him in a huge, tight hug. It was no surprise: team SSSN had already hit a couple of bars before arriving at the Adel house.

Plastic cups were emptied and refilled, cans crushed and barren bottles left on the table for someone to clean up next morning. The jokes and conversations became ruder, and Weiss decided that it was her duty to cover her hands over Ruby’s ears when necessary. Yang announced that she was bored with the kitchen, and led the group to push and shove through the hall to who knows where.

Nora’s hand crept into Pyrrha’s, and she gave it a tug.

“Look at that chandelier!”

“Chande-?” The red-haired girl followed her friend’s pointing finger, up to the high ceiling of the third floor. Dangling between the twisting staircase, right above them, was a cascade of sparkling glass droplets, like a frozen waterfall.

“That’s the kind of thing you’d expect to find in a palace!” Nora exclaimed, the iridescent drops reflecting in her eyes, giving the turquoise irises more of a diamond-like quality. “Or Fort Castle back in its heyday.” 

Pyrrha was inclined to agree. She’d only been in a small section of this house, but it constantly reminded her of Jaune’s. It was staggering how different the two were; the Arc house was modest yet cosy. This one grand and exquisite, more like a five star hotel than a family home. She’d heard that Coco’s mother and sisters were models, or something, and that the entire family was very stylish, something that was reflected in both interior décor and fashion tastes.

So captivated were they by the giant cluster of glass gems, that neither noticed the slender hand silently pour some colourless liquid into Pyrrha’s cup. Peony withdrew the bottle, grinning in triumph. She needed only to reach around the taller girl without daring to even breathe, and be very careful with her movements. She returned back to her hiding spot behind the tall vase by the stairs.

“Think we’d best catch up with the others,” Pyrrha murmured, before taking a drink. She frowned; was it just her or did the cider taste a little less sweet…? She shrugged, deciding that it must be the fake wine lingering in her mouth and affecting the taste of everything else.

As they disappeared into the knot of people, a smirking Peony silently followed. She’d seen her enemy drink the tampered beverage. All that was needed were a few more repeats of the same stunt.

The group had moved to another living area, where Sun had worked himself up into a loud, yelling rant about the White Fang while Blake in vain tried to shut him up. Ruby had decided to stick with soda and was now caught up in a sugar-rush-induced laughing fit, making her seem as drunk as the rest.

Two gulps were downed. Three, four, five. Another drink, two drinks, three, four…seven? They laughed at anything and everything, from Yang’s bad puns to anyone who belched. Yang sat on the sofa with Blake on one knee and Ruby on the other. Nora had given up on her legs and resolved to slide on her back to places, or roll. Ren leaned against the wall, stroking it, murmuring how beautiful its wallpaper was. No one would now noticed Peony’s smooth, pink-nailed hand slipping drops of liquid into Pyrrha’s cup.

The redhead herself now also gave up on using her legs, and laid down on the sofa, resting her head on Weiss’s lap.

“Hello, dear,” Weiss smiled down at her and stroked her long red locks. The heiress wasn’t as intoxicated as the others, but she’d had enough for her next words to slip off her tongue, “Out of sheer and utter interest, have you and Jaune had sex yet?”

From her right, Ruby gasped and slapped her on the arm. _“Weeiiiiss!”_

“I was just asking!”

Pyrrha’s lips curled into a crooked, sly little smirk. Jaune wouldn’t hear, he was too busy trying to teach Neptune a few dance moves – in vain. Neptune was drunk and his dancing had only increased in hilarity, while, the alcohol had diluted Jaune’s skills to the point where they reflected his clumsier nature.

“Not quite yet,” she purred, and she cast Weiss a coy look. “But I think we’re close.”

“Pyr- _rha!”_ Yang exclaimed from beneath her two teammates. “I would shake your hand if I could. Ruby, shake her hand for me.”

Ruby took Pyrrha’s hand, shook it, and didn’t let go.

“Now allow me to give you a few tips on the whole ‘first time’ business, Pyr,” Yang went on, slurred but nonetheless knowledgeable. “Firstly: it’s gonna hurt, that much is inevitable. It’ll hurt for you though, not for him. At least, it’s highly unlikely to hurt for him. He’ll climax, you won’t.”

Ruby jolted, reddening in embarrassment. “Yaaang!”

Ordinarily, Pyrrha too would be uncomfortable about such a conversation. But she wasn’t feeling ordinary. Her head felt different, fuzzy in a way, and her normal discretion had been washed away. The conversation was, therefore, fascinating. And, weirdly, slightly arousing.

“Secondly,” Yang continued, loud and unafraid of who might hear, “although, it relates to my first point so… Firstly-and-a-half: maybe it won’t hurt so much if you practice. So…once you’re able to fit three maybe four fin–”

“YANG!” 

Ruby, Weiss and Blake had shouted in unison and glared at the blonde girl. Ruby’s face was completely crimson. Weiss’s was pale as snow – apparently this was now just too graphic for even her intoxicated state. Blake’s eyes were wide and bow-covered cat ears stiff and alert.

“Girls, girls, girls!” Yang soothed, lilac eyes glinting and revealing how much she was enjoying this. “It’s a fact of life and something every girl has to go through. Weiss, when you and Neptune get to that stage, I’ll impart my wisdom to you too.”

“Please don’t,” Weiss muttered, twisting a lock of Pyrrha’s hair around her finger, unravelling it, twisting it again.

Yang shook her golden head, and beamed down at her redheaded friend. “Anyway, Pyrrha. Definitely-secondly: move slow. As in, do the required movements slowly. There, you three, I’m toning it down. You happy now? Thirdly: though it’ll hurt, bite down the pain and get on with it. You’ll understand what I mean when you get there. But don’t worry. You’re a Mistralian girl, so you’ll be fine.”

Ruby frowned. “How does that make a difference?”

“They love sex!”

Blake slapped her arm.

The younger girl gaped at her sister, then at Pyrrha.

“What? Really? Pyrrha, I’d never taken you for–”

“That’s the stereotype,” Weiss interjected. “Doesn’t mean every girl’s like that, especially Pyrrha. Now Yang, I know you’ve had a lot to drink, but there’s no need to be so explicate.”

“Weiss…” Pyrrha rolled off the heiress to kneel on the floor. “It’s ok. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put Yang’s advice to practice.” 

She rose to her feet and swaggered – _swaggered!_ Pyrrha never swaggered! – to the dancing Jaune. It took a tug of his arm and whisper in his ear for him to nod and smile. The two disappeared into the knot of people by the door, hand in hand, Pyrrha leading the way.

The four girls on the sofa gaped at the polite and professional girl’s change in character. Nora rolled past.

“Well,” Weiss breathed, “now we know what Pyrrha is like after a few drinks.”

“Letting her primal Mistralian instincts out at last,” Yang grinned. “There’s a reason why there’s always one of them in erotica, am I right, Blake?”

“YANG, SHUT UP!”

 

Filled with a rare boost of extra self-confidence, Pyrrha carved a path through the knot of people without any regard for subtlety. She still apologised for those who were pushed a little harder, but other than that, she was too distracted by the thought of what they were about to do. She held Jaune firmly by the hand, leading him through the mass of people, up the stairs. There were still a lot of people up here, so she brought him up the next flight of stairs. This was better; practically deserted. 

Jaune squeezed her hand. “Sooo…why did you want to be alone with me exactly?”

Pyrrha responded by practically throwing her mouth over his. It was drunken and messy but exhilarating. Her hands clawed at his back, his shirt bunching in the paths of her fingers. She smiled when she felt his hands grip her waist.

He pulled away to speak, foreheads touching. “So, you want this type of ‘time alone’.”

She sniggered. “Sort of. I’m a Mistralian girl, and from the coast at that. There’s a stereotype that we are sex maniacs.” She pressed her body against his, her breasts squashed against his chest, groins meeting. “I want to prove that tonight.”

He felt himself blush; his cheeks to his ears burned like fire. He expected this day to dawn, and he was ready as ever. But since he’d been drinking, it didn’t really occur to him that only yesterday, back at his house when his mother had proudly presented to them a box of condoms, she’d admitted that she wasn’t ready. 

“You…want to have sex with me?”

She nodded.

“For real?”

She nodded.

She was drunk. He wasn’t much better. He didn’t really think beyond the fact that his girlfriend was offering herself to him and he wanted to take it.

“Now?”

Her voice was hot and sultry with want, “Absolutely.” 

She pounced again, kissing him roughly as alcohol sang through her veins. She pushed him against a bedroom door, and his hands grasped at her body, clawing at her back. One hand reached down to the handle, and he twisted, fully intending this to be as private as can be.

The door swung open. What they were greeted with was not entirely pleasant.

A boy and a girl their age gaped up at them. Most of their clothes were gone. They were lying on the bed. He was between her legs.

“Sorry!” Pyrrha gasped, slamming the door shut. She shook her head to clear away the shock, and peered down the hall to choose on another bedroom. She was halted by Jaune’s hand pulling her back.

“Perhaps now’s not the best time to do it,” he suggested. “And maybe you should sober down a little. What happened to you anyway? I didn’t think you drank that much.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps I’m a lightweight after all? But I suppose you’re right. Alcohol is hardly part of a balanced diet.” And then she immediately contradicted herself with, “I’m gonna get a soda!”

From her post on the stairs, an alerted Peony dashed away. Watching Pyrrha and Jaune do that, and then for that bitch to declare that she wanted sex…thank God the room was occupied.

She pushed through to the kitchen where the soda stood on the counter. Since this was a drinking party, Coco hadn’t bothered too much with the non-alcoholic drinks. There was less than half a bottle of fruity soda left.

Knowing she didn’t have much time, Peony simply poured the last of the vodka into the bottle. There was quite a lot, enough for the taste to be obvious. But no matter, Pyrrha’s veins would be surging with alcohol now.

She sailed out of the other door just as Pyrrha stumbled in, bumped into someone, apologised, and headed straight for the soda. A generous cupful was poured, and she disappeared back into the hall.

From her hiding place behind the door, Peony grinned. The drunk and tall Pyrrha Nikos would have significantly more trouble getting through the hordes of people. She, small and dainty and still sober Peony Bloom, would slip between them all like a fairy.

So that was what she did. She weaved and ducked, not needing to worry about keeping a glass level or even her precious vodka. People stumbled into her and elbowed her – that was fine just so long as no one spilt anything down her dress. She needed to remain presentable.

She ascended the stairs to the crowded first floor. Like a magnet, her eyes were drawn to the blond mop shining in the light. Jaune was trying to catch up with Pyrrha, but struggling as large groups would rather continue in their hilarious conversations than shuffle to allow people past.

But Peony was small and clear-headed. She breathed in to slip sideways past the group, popping out before her target.

“Why, Jaune!” she cried, smile wide and sickly sweet. “Fancy seeing you here!”

His face froze in horror. _No, Lord, whyyy?_

“Goodwitch told us to keep away from each other,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“At school. She can’t dictate what we do outside of the grounds.”

“Well, I still want you to keep away from me!”

“I’ll assume that’s the alcohol talking,” Peony sighed, and laid her hands on his chest. He backed away, down the corridor.

“Oh, come _on,_ Jaune! You’ve had a few drinks and I’m sure won’t mind a round of much-awaited intimacy.” She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘sex’. It only reminded her of Pyrrha’s earlier words to him…and how he complied. 

“Oh sure!” Jaune snapped. “Just not with you.”

Her voice retained its sickly sweet quality while her smile was smeared to sultry and devious. “You’re drunk, Jauney. Once you feel my naked body against yours, you’ll regret you ever said such things!” Her fingers fumbled with the top button of his shirt.

He yanked her hands away. She reached out for him again. He backed further down the hall, refusing to make eye-contact with her.

“Just kiss me, Jaune.”

“Take a fucking hint already! How much more obvious do I need to be?”

“These are false words Jaune! Fate made it so that _you_ saved _me_ that day I fell from the balcony for a reason. We are fated to be to–” 

A new voice cut across, the sharp, insistent, and slightly panicked tones of a certain ice queen.

 _“Peony, get out of the way!”_

 

Pyrrha stumbled in a vague direction towards the living area, where she last knew everyone to be. Sadly with a drink in hand and drink in her blood and the amount of people crammed in the hall, getting there was proving to be a fruitless task. She was elbowed in the face, shoved back by someone who she thought was Russell Thrush but didn’t have enough time to look at him properly, before she decided that she would sober up where she stood before making the attempt once more. 

“Hey, Pyrrha!”

The cheerful voice nearly made her jump. She spat the soda back into her cup before she could taste it.

“Hello, Ruby.”

The smaller girl sidled closer to her, seemingly to latch onto a familiar person and not get trodden on by the larger guests.

“How come you’re not in the other room?” Pyrrha asked.

“Everyone split up after you and Jaune left. Where did you two go anyway?”

“Upstairs.”

There was a mischievous glint in her silver eyes. “Did you two…practice Yang’s advice?”

“What? Oh, no, no. A house party is neither the time nor place. Plus, we’re under the influence.”

“Hm, wise choice, I guess." She eyed the plastic cup. "What’s that you’re drinking there? Water?”

Pyrrha swirled the cup. The liquid sloshed, not as fizzy as she expected, but she put that down to the bottle being open awhile. “Soda,” she replied.

“Soda?” Sliver eyes now lit up. “I don’t suppose I could have some could I? I don’t want to go to the kitchen on my own and I’m desperate for a drink.”

“Be my guest,” Pyrrha obliged, before passing her the cup.

Gasping in delight, Ruby took a large gulp. She swallowed. She looked at Pyrrha, eyes as wide as moons.

“This is not soda.”

The drink had lost its fizzy sweetness. Instead, it _burned,_ a ball of fire clawing down to her stomach. It was _disgusting._

Pyrrha frowned, and tried it again herself. It tasted off, she admitted. Sadly she wasn’t exactly sober anymore, and continued to drink anyway.

She only got as far as two gulps before Ruby slapped the cup out of her hand. Liquid splashed onto a passer-by. Pyrrha shouted an apology over the roaring music and voices, but the dowsed teen was apparently too drunk to notice anything amiss.

Ruby felt her head. Whatever was in that cup, it was kicking in already. Her brain felt like it was trying to break free from her skull – not hurting, but trying to float. She grabbed Pyrrha’s arm to steady herself.

The redhead held onto her. She didn’t feel particularly normal either. 

“Ruby, I think we should drink some water.”

In an odd tangle of arms, the two shuffled and pushed their way to the kitchen. Pyrrha acted as a sort of battering ram to nudge the intoxicated opposition out of the way. There were stumbles, laughter, and Ruby’s completely out of tune voice singing _This Will Be the Day._

The kitchen was a shambles by the time they reached it. The fridge door swung wide open as more alcohol was grabbed. Blake was there, crouching on the counter while Sun’s face inched ever closer to hers, his shoulders swaying in a drunk, flirty manoeuvre. 

There were no more cups to be found, so Pyrrha drank the gushing water straight out of her cupped hand. It ran down her neck and all over her clothes, only a morsel making it to her mouth. But it was good to taste water again. She took another handful, and another, then remembered Ruby. She grabbed the giggling girl and pressed her hand to her mouth, forcing her to take the escaping water.

“Just let me drink straight from the tap,” the younger girl laughed, and stuck her face straight into the line of water. Her tongue danced about it, trying to catch the drops. She coughed and choked, and Pyrrha pulled her back.

“Let’s just get some air,” the redhead suggested, and turned to leave…

…and bumped straight into Cardin Winchester.

“Sorry,” she muttered, and tried to push past. A strong hand gripped her arm, pinning her in place. 

Cardin smirked down at her. “Hey, Pyrrha. What’s up?”

“The ceiling,” she bluntly replied. She squirmed in his grip, but the alcohol in her veins had washed away her strength. “Let go of me.”

“Not until I’ve got what I came for.”

His was barely a breath away from her face – and he stank of drink. Pyrrha leaned back against the sink as far as she could go, heart hammering as realisation dawned. Cardin was drunk, that much was obvious. That didn’t change the fact that he was acting inappropriately.

“You’re a Mistralian girl,” he slurred. “That means that you love sex. And with a little alcohol, you’ll do it with anyone.”

“You know that’s not true! It’s just a stupid stereotype!” Pyrrha writhed again, but was pinned in place by the shoulders. She flung a helpless look at Ruby, but the younger girl was giggling into empty space.

“C’mon, Pyr. Let’s start off small. Just gimme a kiss!” 

“No! And it’s Pyr _rha, ‘Card’.”_ She leaned so far away, the edge of the sink dug into her back. It was all in vain, as Cardin ignored her refusal.

His mouth swallowed hers, teeth smashed together, tongue trying to gain a forceful entry. Pyrrha squealed and writhed like a trapped animal. She managed to break free from his horrid kiss, but his hands grabbed her face to hold her still, and his lips caught hers again. He sucked, moved, tried to push inside her mouth. Pyrrha refused to keep still as she tried to escape, but her weary limbs and dizzy head weren’t helping. 

Then a hand grabbed her breast. Somehow, it sparked an electric shock from there right up to her head, clearing the dizziness. Her knee shot up and smashed into his crotch.

His scream could have shaken the room. Sun and Blake were wrenched apart while others turned to stare. Cardin dropped to his knees clutching his crotch, face flushed red with pain. Pyrrha gripped the sink behind her, gaping down at him.

That felt good.

First Peony, now The Winchester. Semester three was turning out to be a very good one indeed as far as dealing with people she disliked was concerned.

“What the fuck?!” Cardin gasped between groans. “You fucking bitch!”

Groggily, he tried to stumble back onto his feet and reach out to her. Another hand joined the fray, wrenching him up by the collar of his shirt.

Sun’s dark eyes glared at him like hot coals. He shook him with each word to the point where Cardin drunkenly flopped like a fish.

“Do not. Force. A girl. Like that.” The monkey faunus was intoxicated as well, given his slurred speech and next rambling words. “Sure Mistralian girls like sex! I should know, I go to Haven. It does seem to be some cultural ineri…inhetirance… _inheritance_ thing. Give ‘em a drink and they’re way easy to pull. But, you can’t force ‘em, you son of a bitch!”

With that, he pushed the bigger boy away. Cardin was too drunk to balance himself and fell flat on his backside. Sun swooped in again to grab his arm and drag him out of the kitchen like a sack of potatoes. Cardin showed no protest other than a string of groggy groans.

Blake meanwhile had swooped to Ruby’s side, holding the laughing, fuddled girl.

“What the heck has she been drinking?” she exclaimed as Ruby rambled about how awesome it would be to become a frog.

Pyrrha didn’t answer. She still gripped the sink behind her, whole body tensed. Cardin’s advances had shaken her, not to mention how guilty she felt over Ruby. It was _her_ drink that had done this. It added to the bubbling emotion welling up inside her, threatening to explode.

“Blake,” she said, voice beginning to waver. “I really need a hug right now.”

From her post on the floor, Blake gazed up at her, then back at Ruby, deciding who to hold. She decided to hold both.

She hauled Ruby up, arm wrapped around the smaller girl’s waist to pin her close to her own body. She wrapped her other arm around Pyrrha, who hugged her back, tight.

“This is all my fault!” she wailed.

Blake sighed. It was almost like the janitor’s closet episode all over again. “How so?”

“Ruby’s drunk on my soda!”

The faunus pulled back then, eyes narrowed in confusion. “What?”

A new voice cut across them, sharp and demanding, “Just what is going on here?”

Weiss stormed into the room, heels clapping on the tiles. Clearly she’d witnessed Cardin being dragged and defeated by Sun, as he followed her with a bashful look in his eyes that suggested that she’d yelled at him. For that reason he headed straight to the fridge to grab another beer and sit on the counter, out of the way of the girls. 

The heiress scowled at the sight before her. Pyrrha clung onto Blake, moaning about soda. Blake shifted awkwardly in her arms whilst supporting Ruby. Ruby gurgled and mumbled something about potatoes.

“What in the world…?” Weiss’s icy eyes slashed through them all.

Blake cast her a pleading look, amber eyes wide and cat-ears drooped. “Please help…” 

Weiss obliged, taking a hold of Ruby so that she could collapse into her arms when Blake released her.

“Ooo, _hellooooo,_ Weissy,” Ruby slurred, snuggling into the pair of pale arms.

Weiss stumbled as the added weight was flung onto her body and frowned down at her team leader, who cosied herself on the heiress’s shoulder. Weiss then frowned up at Pyrrha. She had her strong arms firmly locked around Blake, cheek resting on her shoulder. Her expression was the most crestfallen Weiss had ever seen on the normally cheerful champion.

“What’s up with her? Did her antics with Jaune not go as planned?”

“She’s upset that Ruby drank her soda,” Blake sighed, herself not too sure of the situation. 

“…Has she turned into Nora or something? Only Nora would get mad at such a thing!”

She wanted to further pry into the suggestive encounter between the redhead and Jaune, but in her arms, Ruby had fallen silent. Worried that she’d passed out, Weiss gripped the younger girl’s shoulders to look at her properly. Under the cropped black and red hair was a grimacing face of an odd shade of green.

“Ruby…are you alright?”

Ruby swallowed, and shook her head weakly. “I don’t feel too good.”

Her words were like a gunshot. Weiss froze in horror, Blake’s eyes rounded in concern, even Pyrrha had raised her head to mumble if everything was going to be alright.

Weiss unleashed one question she had hoped she would never have to ask, “Do you feel sick, Ru?”

Ruby nodded glumly. She felt her throat. The grimace deepened.

“Uh oh,” she whispered.

The other three exchanged horrified looks. It was obvious what was happening.

Weiss immediately took control. “Ok, you guys stay here. I’ll get Ruby to a bathroom.”

“What about the sink?” Blake suggested, and both Pyrrha and Weiss wrinkled their noses at the idea.

“I think Ruby would appreciate some privacy – sober or not,” was Weiss’s argument.

Pyrrha’s was that people might want to drink out of that sink.

Blake sagged in defeat. “Just try to get her to hold on.”

The Ice Queen hobbled out of the kitchen under Ruby’s weight. The younger girl clearly would not be able to even stand on her own. They passed a blissful Nora as they left the doorway, not sparing her a second glance, even when she bid them a drunken yet hearty hello. The hammer-wielder frowned at their staggering, retreating backs, laid down on the floor, rolled across to Pyrrha and Blake, before jumping back onto her feet.

“Wazzuuuuup, girlfriends?!” she drawled, beaming and unable to stand still; she fidgeted on her feet, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Nora, thank the gods!” Pyrrha cried, before abandoning Blake to throw her arms around her orange-haired friend. In doing so, Nora’s face was squashed right up against her chest, but the smaller girl didn’t mind. In fact, she giggled hysterically and slipped her arms around Pyrrha’s waist.

“Why, good evening, Pyrrha! How have you been?”

The Mistralian wasn’t crying, but her wail proved that she had lost the skill of eloquence, “Nora, I thought my soda was soda but I don’t think it was!”

“Yeesh, I know the feeling. A nice juice bottle of fizz, take a swig and BAM! It was water all along!”

“No, whatever it was, it wasn’t water! It’s done something to Ruby!”

Nora gasped, releasing herself from Pyrrha’s clutch to gape up at her.

“You mean to say that Ruby’s been _poisoned?”_

Pyrrha shrugged. “In a manner of speaking…”

There was another gasp, louder and very vocal, rather like a vacuum cleaner. “Ruby’s been poisoned? That’s terrible! We have to do something!”

“Ok.”

Her turquoise eyes shone as the melodrama intensified. “We must find an antidote!”

“Ok.”

“We must venture on an epic quest to gather the vital ingredients!”

“Ok.”

Nora gripped the sides of Pyrrha’s head to stare at her dramatically, right into the eyes. “For we will _make_ the antidote!”

“Ok.”

The smaller girl grabbed her hand, locking their fingers, while she pointed forwards like a general leading an army into battle. “Then onwards, my friend! Let us not rest until we are triumphant!”

She led the way, hands still clasped, out of the back door and into the garden. Pyrrha stumbled behind her, not out of drunkenness, but out of how hard she was laughing.

Blake stared after them, paralysed, until now completely silent.

“Did that all just happen?”

 

The music pounded not only in Ruby’s ears but her stomach as well. The acids and dodgy soda churned inside her, and the pulsing beat felt like it was kicking her insides, spinning her head in one direction and her guts in the other. Weiss’s bony shoulder felt uncomfortable against her cheek now, but she didn’t dare move it; the slightest of movements to her head increased the spin and the sickness.

There was a bathroom on the first floor, and they had already tried it. Weiss immediately slammed the door and rushed them both away when they discovered a group of older teens already in there, doing things that should be done in a bedroom and not a bathroom…and it wasn’t sleeping. So now they were headed towards the bathroom on the second floor, and currently tackling the stairs. 

It turned out that even the slightest of altitude had an effect on Ruby’s head, and ultimately her stomach.

“Weiss…” she moaned as her throat constricted in pre-vomit warning. “I don’t like this.” 

“Please, Ruby!” the Ice Queen had melted to desperate pleas. “Just hold on!” 

_Don’t you dare puke on my dress…or my shoes…or on me at all!_

She practically dragged her best friend up the stairs, step after agonisingly slow step as Ruby proved her reluctance to continue the ascent. Weiss pulled, coaxing her with promises that would be forgotten the next morning by them both, yanked particularly forcefully when progress was just too slow. When they finally made it to the top, she was breathless and panting and nearly collapsing under Ruby’s weight. 

The younger girl had an entirely different dilemma. Her insides were like a washing machine, spinning, tossing, turning, round and round. Her throat and jaw tensed.

“Weiss!” she squeaked. “I think it’s happening!”

In a burst of adrenaline – NO ONE was puking on her shoes tonight! – Weiss gripped Ruby’s arms and guided her forward. She yelled at people to make way, warning them of the impending monsoon season, as it were. Most of them parted in panic. Others needed a little more persuasion, like a shove or an insistent scream.

They made it a fair distance down the crowded first floor, and then they met an obstruction. Flimsy pink dress, soft brown cascade of hair. Peony had her back to them, as she was busy trying to flirt with and cosy up to an ever-backing away Jaune. The tall boy tried to look anywhere but the clingy girl, so it wasn’t long before he saw his two friends behind her – Weiss’s wide, panicked eyes and Ruby’s sickly grimace.

So he saw that what happened next wasn’t anyone’s fault.

Weiss tried to warn her, _“Peony, get out of the way!”_

Jaune saw her lips move, heard those exact words.

Peony turned at the voice – just as Ruby’s stomach gave up.

She couldn’t see what was going on, only feel the muscles contract impossibly tight, the vomit bursting up her body and out of her mouth, bitter and disgusting. The feeling and taste only made her feel even worse, and so more puke exploded forth. She roared with each wretch, tears streaming down her cheeks, and she didn’t hear the screams.

When it stopped, her whole body feeling blessedly calm and still, she peeked up – and nearly vomited again. She straightened, falling back into Weiss’s arms.

Peony Bloom had been the unintentional victim of her biologically-created projectile. The liquid, faint brown and accompanied by mushy lumps that was Ruby’s dinner, covered her front, all down the skirt of her dress and much of her legs, right down to her feet where it gathered in a gory puddle.

The flower girl’s face wasn’t nice to look at either. It was a perfect picture of shock, horror, and absolute, unprecedented, unstoppable, unquenchable fury. Mouth agape, brows pinched, eyes wide and burning like the fires of hell.

Her voice wobbled but each word punctured Ruby’s very soul.

“You. Fucking. Little. Cunt.”

Ruby didn’t know what the last word meant, but she knew it was very bad. She gulped – her saliva tasted revolting. “I’m so sorry!”

She meant it. As much as she didn’t like Peony and hated every wrong doing she’d ever done, Ruby’s apology was sincere. She hadn’t meant to vomit all over her! She wasn’t that type of person!

But Peony didn’t think that.

In one lightning-fast flash, her hand flew across the younger girl’s face. There was a snap as contact was made, Ruby’s head turned at the impact. Her cheek stung.

Peony stormed away, towards the stairs. She shoved away anyone who stood in her way. Disgusting, vile vomit clung to her skin and clothes, her hand hurt. The anger within her flared and flamed and burned so intensely, that as soon as she was outside, she unleashed an almighty, raucous scream.

Everything was torn to shreds yet again, and yet this was her best, most meticulously prepared plan she’d ever had! She would take advantage of Jaune’s intoxicated state while Cardin dealt with Pyrrha. She’d been so careful when sneaking the vodka into Pyrrha’s drinks, just so that Cardin’s side would run smoother! He would come onto her, she would be too drunk to refuse, and it would spread around the party like wildfire, courtesy of the rest of team CRDL, until it reached Jaune. He would be devastated and furious at Pyrrha’s disloyalty – especially due to the fact it was with _Cardin Winchester_ – and Peony would comfort him and he would realise that she was the one he loved all along.

Instead, she had no idea how Cardin was handling the Pyrrha situation, and she was covered in sick. Her plan laid in tatters, and it was all Ruby Rose’s fault.

She didn’t care that Ruby was two years younger and still a kid. She didn’t care that Weiss had already warned her. She didn’t care that this would side-track from her mission for a while.

She just _had_ to get revenge on that stupid, scythe-wielding, cape-wearing, weird-haired, insufferable little girl!

She let rip another frustrated scream.

Few paid attention to her. Weiss and Jaune didn’t even hear her; they’d already rushed Ruby to the bathroom. Weiss held her by the shoulders as her leader kneeled before the toilet bowl. Jaune managed to chase a few snogging couples out, dragging one stubborn boy out by the neck of the shirt in an impressive feat of strength and assertiveness. The only extra person Jaune didn’t get rid of was the sleeping occupant of the bath: Ren.

“Oh my God!” Ruby howled into the toilet. “I can’t believe I just did that! She’s so gonna kill me!”

 _“I_ can’t believe _she_ did _that!”_ Weiss seethed. “I mean, she slapped you! As soon as I tell Yang, that bitch had better watch her back!”

Jaune knelt beside Ruby to rub his hand up and down her back. “Are you ok, Rubes?”

“My face hurts!”

He pulled back a short lock, and drew in a sharp breath at the red mark streaking across her cheek, like a painful petal.

“Do you feel like you’re going to be sick again?”

Ruby sniffed. “I don’t know.”

“Well, this’ll make you feel better: you, Ruby Rose, are an absolute legend.” Like an older brother, he kissed the side of her head.

“Why? I just puked on your ex-girlfriend. And there was a lot of it.”

Jaune glanced up at Weiss. For once, she mirrored his devious grin.

“Precisely,” they replied.

 

Back in the kitchen, Nora and Pyrrha had returned from their epic quest and created their antidote. It swirled before them in a large bowl, a concoction of water, beer, juice, coffee granules, grass, leaves, flowers and anything else they could find on their scrounging in the garden. The potion was a cloudy beige colour while the foliage refused to submerse no matter how vigorously Nora stirred. 

“I’m sure it’ll work just fine,” she said. “Now, Pyrrha, would you kindly hand me that bottle?”

“This won’t take too much longer will it?”

“No, no, of course not.”

“Good. It’s just that I’d quite like to go and fuck Jaune – I mean, find Jaune.”

Normally, her face would have coloured up while she melted into a pool of humiliation. But the alcohol kept her sturdy and rendered her immune to feeling too embarrassed around her closest friends. So she happily past Nora the empty beer bottle.

Blake stood at the head of the table, sipping her cider, watching in befuddlement. While Nora was both crazy and very drunk, Pyrrha seemed to be going along with it just for an odd spot of fun. This was evidenced by her constant suggesting that perhaps Ruby wasn’t as bad as they thought and likely didn’t need the antidote after all.

But Nora was persistent.

“Here we are!” she sang, holding up the beer bottle into which they’d managed to pout much of the potion. “One pan…pana…pacea…”

“Panacea,” Pyrrha prompted.

“One of those – to cure all ills!”

Blake regarded it cynically. “You’re not actually going to feed that to Ruby, are you?”

While Pyrrha shook her head, Nora nodded with a grin.

“Of course we are!” she grandly declared. “Her only hope in the battle against the poisoned soda is to consume this remedy! It’s either that or true love’s kiss, and I don’t know how we’d arrange that.”

Blake sighed and sipped her cider once more, seeing little hope in convincing Nora otherwise. Meanwhile, Pyrrha slid a sly look through the open door, down at the crowded hallway. In the middle, Cardin swayed and staggered, alone and no sign of a drink in his hand.

“Say, Nora. I think I’ve found another unfortunate soul who might need this potion more than Ruby…”

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________  
Now then, isn't that something we've long awaited? Our ever-hated flower bitch being puked all over. You're welcome.  
Sorry this one's a little late, but it's amazing how life gets in the way. This was also a long chapter with a lot going on.  
The stereotype of Mistralian girls, particularly those from Coastal Mistral - this a reference to the nymphs in Ancient Greek mythology. Nymphs were minor nature goddesses and had sex a lot...so they were basically sluts.  
As ever, thank you all so much for reading, whether you're new or stuck by for many a chapter, or even since the beginning! You're all wonderful and fabulous :)


	28. Sweet Vengeance and Strong Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after the drunken party, and three people are out for revenge: Jaune against Cardin, Yang against Peony and Peony against Ruby.

What struck Ruby first was that her head felt remarkably clear. Wasn’t she supposed to be hungover? She knew she’d gotten drunk…so why hadn’t the consequences reared their ugly heads the next morning. She hadn’t even opened her eyes yet and she could already tell that the world no longer span, and it was just like any other morning. She wondered if it had anything to do with the many, many cups of water Weiss had forced her to drink…

The second thing she noticed upon opening her eyes. She wasn’t in her bed. She was in Weiss’s. To be lying this low to the ground felt odd.

Sitting up, she noticed several other things. Sunlight struggled through the thick curtain, casting the room into red-tinted darkness. The amount of red suggested the brightness of the sun…therefore it must be quite late in the morning – or afternoon.

Another thing she realised was that she was the only one awake. Across from her were the bulging covers on Blake’s bed, indicating that the faunus had completely submersed herself in them. Yang snored on the bunk above, while the softer breaths of Weiss floated from Ruby’s bed.

In the relative silence, fragments of last night pieced themselves back together in her head. She remembered tasting lager, and finding that it was disgusting. She recalled sitting on Yang’s knee in the living area while her older sister rambled on about the ‘first time’. Then Neptune and Weiss danced together, Neptune ended up on the floor while a flustered Weiss tried heaving him back up to no avail… The group had dispersed after that. Then she found Pyrrha and drank her soda…

_Oh no._

That soda. The soda that wasn’t actually soda. That had been the cause of her drunkenness.

_Oh no._

It eventually caused her to be sick…

_Oh no._

…all over Peony Bloom.

_...Shit._

She leapt off the bed, glancing wildly up at Weiss. A pale arm dangled from the bunk as Weiss slept on her front; a most unladylike fashion. Ruby’s hand wrapped around the wrist and shook.

“Weiss!” she hissed. “Weiss, wake up! Please!”

Groaning, the heiress’s eyes peeled open, ice stabbing into the younger girl in anger at the disturbance.

“What?” she snapped. Her anger at the untimely awakening melted away for a moment. There was an angry pinkish mark on Ruby’s cheek, a long petal-shaped streak. When Yang would see that…

Ruby swallowed. Her saliva didn’t taste right – it was thick and sour from morning dehydration. “Last night,” she said, “I vomited on Peony, didn’t I?”

Stifling a yawn, Weiss nodded. “Congratulations,” she added duly.

“Congratulations! More like ‘commiserations’! I puked on her! She is literally going to kill me!”

“Ssh!” Weiss hissed, beckoning over to the other asleep girls opposite. “You’ll wake them. And I expect Yang will be very hungover.”

Inhaling, Ruby continued her panicked babble in hushed whispers and squeaks. “You saw what she’s done to Pyrrha! Vandalism, name-calling, out-right bullying, the lake incident – Pyrrha could have _died_ if it weren’t for Jaune! And now – and now all that’s gonna happen to _me!”_

“Ruby…” Weiss propped her chin on one hand. “You’re not _scared_ of Peony “Flower Bitch” Bloom, are you?”

“Not scared. I’m never scared of her. I’m just apprehensive.”

“Close enough.”

“Weiss!”

“Ssh! Too loud again.”

“Sorry.”

“Look, Ru, there’s no need to worry. I’ve no doubt that she’ll try to get back at you big time, but then only she will be in the wrong. What you did was an accident, and you have myself and Jaune to vouch for that. Anything she does will further prove what a lowlife she is. And besides,” a warmer smile lifted her lips, “you have us.”

“Yeah but…” Another memory flashed before her, proving how dangerous her situation was. “Peony _hit_ me!”

Though she had been outraged at that, a sly smile now crept across Weiss’s face. She glanced over to Yang’s sleeping figure.

“That I think we can avenge.”

 

What struck Pyrrha first upon waking up was the pain. A dull throb eating at her head making even opening her eyes a challenge. So this was what hangovers felt like. While on the one hand she rejoiced at how ‘normal’ her social life was becoming, on the other she resented the horrid throb. She was never drinking that much again. Heck, never drinking again full stop. She would never trust party drinks again – that soda was not soda.

It also didn’t help, after she and Nora made their potion, she found some authentic Dionysian wine and drank it straight from the bottle seeing as there were no cups or glasses. She flushed at the vague memory, realising how much of an alcoholic she must have looked.

Her eyes peeled open. The dorm was bathed in deep dark red from the sunlight battling through the curtain. But it wasn’t quite dark enough. Grumbling, she continued to advance out of – no; _off._ She wasn’t even under the covers – the bed. Something pulled her arm back.

Pyrrha turned, and found a snoring Nora clutching her arm.

_What happened last night?!_

She tried to pull herself free, but even asleep the hammer-wielder was as strong as an ox. Pyrrha decided to at least get her feet on the floor and pull from there, but stopped when her bare toes met not hard floor, but something soft and smooth and warm.

She peered over the edge of the bed. Jaune laid on the floor beside it, drooling in his sleep. What was more, Ren was on his own bed, the most normal out of the lot. He had probably wanted his own space.

Intrigued and fearful as to what had happened that night, Pyrrha prodded Jaune awake. Nora was not a safe source of information in this state.

The blond woke with an undignified snort. “Wha…w-what’s going on?” His mystified blue eyes met Pyrrha’s dulled green.

“Morning,” she said, smile forced through her panging head.

“Hey,” he replied, and looked around at his surroundings. It was odd seeing everything from this perspective.

“Um…why are you on the floor?”

Blue eyes squinted as he tried to remember. “I don’t…oh, I know! Nora wanted to sleep – as in, just sleep – with you, and you wanted to sleep – as in, just sleep – with me. So that’s what we did.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Jaune shrugged. “I must’ve fallen out.”

Remnants of memories floated back to them like rapier wasps buzzing back to their nest. Jaune smiled to himself as he remembered trying to correct Neptune’s awful dancing. That smile became a smug grin when he replayed his and Pyrrha’s make-out session and her declaration that she wanted to have sex with him. That grin became a frown when Peony flounced into his head, demanding him to kiss her. Then that frown brightened into a chuckle at the timely arrival of Ruby and her stomach juices. 

“Oh my God, Pyrrha, you’ll never guess what happened last night.”

“What?” The redhead was all ears. Already it sounded much better than what had happened to her. SHE HAD BEEN KISSED AND GROPED BY CARDIN WINCHESTER! CARDIN FUCKING-LIKED-BY-NOBODY-BECAUSE-HE’S-A-TOTAL-JERK WINCHESTER!

“Ruby vomited on Peony last night.”

Pyrrha blinked. She was not ready for that.

“What?”

“Our good friend and sister-from-another-mister Ruby Rose vomited all over our dearly hated Peony Bloom.” His grin broadened. “It was disgusting, but at the same time really, really beautiful.”

“…She was sick on Peony?”

“All down her front, yes. And her legs. And on her feet where it kinda gathered in a pool.”

Pyrrha’s face twisted in an odd cocktail of disgust and delight. The act was repulsive. The victim’s identity was pure satisfaction.

Her sly smile now mirrored Jaune’s. “Excellent,” she said. Then it faded. The weight of her burden over shadowed the news. “Jaune…I have to tell you about something that happened last night.”

In instant, Jaune’s features fell to grim and sombre. He didn’t say anything.

Pyrrha gulped. “Cardin kissed me.”

Still silence. Just Jaune’s shock frozen on his face.

She answered an unspoken question, “In the kitchen while I was trying to help Ruby. He appeared out of nowhere and kissed me – properly. Or at least, he tried to as I wouldn’t respond. I tried to fight back and get away…” She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his next reaction. “He groped my breast. So then I got away by means of hurting him where no man wants to be hurt.”

When she felt a warm hand on hers, she reopened her eyes.

Jaune wore a vengeful frown now. There was something in his eyes that had appeared shortly after Peony’s involvement – protectiveness. He sat up, head not spinning as much as he thought it would. That was good; he would need a clear head for what he needed to do.

“Pyrrha,” he said. “In light of this, I promise you – Arc honour – that as soon as I see that bastard, I’m going to punch his face inside out.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. Besides, not that I’m defending him, but he was very drunk. Drunk enough for me to apply my second punishment of the night.” She sniggered. “See, Nora and I made this ‘potion’, if you will.”

“Ah, that weird mixture you drank?”

She frowned. “…Drank?”

“Yeah, you drank it.”

“What?”

“You’d had a lot of wine by that point,” he said matter-of-factly.

Pyrrha’s hand gripped the bed sheets. _That cursed Dionysian wine that was actually authentic Dionysian wine!_

Jaune added, “It obviously didn’t taste nice seeing as you got as far as one mouthful.”

“A whole mouthful?”

“Somehow.”

“Oh.” That was all she could say when her throat constricted at the thought of consuming that horrid mixture. Given the amount of foraged foliage they’d thrown into the concoction, all sorts of germs could have been swarming in it! 

She was distracted from the disgusting thought when Jaune began to pick himself up.

“Where are you going?”

“To find Cardin,” he said simply. He tried to rise to his feet but a strong hand pushed him down by the shoulder, keeping him on his knees.

Pyrrha’s eyes were tinted with worry. “I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”

“And I don’t want him to go without knowing exactly what I think of him. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I can’t even look out for you? And, drunk or not, what Cardin did to you is exactly - if not, similar - to what Peony did to me. You punched her eventually.” 

The Mistralian sighed. Jaune had a point. Besides, he was very stubborn when it came to protecting those dear to him, even if his method did not find favour with those in his care – his meek obedience to Peony was a prime example. Plus, while she didn’t entirely doubt his punching capabilities, Cardin was a whole lot stronger, and so much harder hitter.

“I just don’t want to hear that something’s gone wrong,” she murmured. 

“Alright, how about you come with me to _watch_ Cardin get his ass kicked?” He stood up, and his head did spin at that point. He stumbled and winced. “After I’ve had a glass of water, of course.”

She went with him, in case he needed back up though her pounding head would probably render her near useless. Besides, if that time when he kicked Cardin between the legs was anything to go by, this release of Jaune’s anger would be just as thrilling. She always felt an odd, wonderful, electric shock at the thought of her sweet, adorable, goofy Jaune acting in such a masculine manner for her.

After downing several cups of water, they found CRDL in the dining hall, slumped over strong coffees. Cardin was surrounded by empty mugs, his hangover seemingly the worst out of the four. But that didn’t rouse any form of sympathy in Jaune. He stormed over to them, Pyrrha in tow and reminding him to be careful.

He didn’t care that there were several other students in the hall to witness it. He didn’t care about the trouble he could get into. He didn’t care that Cardin had been drunk. It had happened, and that was all that mattered.

Russell, Dove and Lark were the first to notice the enraged boy. They shifted uncomfortably in their seats, intimidated by the fiery, passionate anger that had transformed his normally soft sapphire eyes into burning midnight blue coals. Cardin had his back to him, and didn’t notice his teammates’ discomfort thanks to his staring down into his thick, black coffee.

But he heard the voice, laced with fury. It was something he was starting to get used to hearing from Jaune Arc.

“Cardin Winchester, stand up and turn around.”

Groaning at the noise, Cardin groggily obeyed. His head screamed for him to remain sitting, but he felt like he couldn’t control his own legs anymore.

“What?” he moaned.

He looked awful, but still Jaune couldn’t sympathise with him. He kept his voice at a low and intimidating growl, “I know what you did to Pyrrha.”

“Did what?” Cardin sighed. He didn’t care about Jaune and Pyrrha. His aching head was a much larger problem.

The growl flared into a snap, “You fucking well know what. You forced yourself on her!”

“What, you’re saying I raped her?” There wasn’t a lot that Cardin could remember, but he did recall kissing her. It felt good. He remembered grabbing her breast. That too felt good. Then came the painful memory of his prized jewels taking the punishment. That had not felt good at all.

“It could have gone that way! And I’m disgusted that you tried anything on her!”

The hungover Cardin really couldn’t care less. “So what? It didn’t go any further. And you should count yourself lucky; she has a good pair of–”

The fist landed on his jaw, throwing him back on the table. Mugs clattered everywhere, hot coffee flooded the table, dripped onto the floor, soaked his clothes and blazed on his back. People bolted at the noise, staring at yet another bout of commotion – what was it with those first years?

Jaune rubbed his burning fist against his shirt.

That felt awesome.

Pyrrha gaped at the moaning Cardin sprawled across the table, the punch and the flying victim replaying itself in her mind.

That looked awesome.

Panting, Jaune took his girlfriend’s hand, forcing the pain to the back of his mind. He should really start taking lessons from Yang or Sun to reduce the damage to himself in unarmed combat.

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, and they left, the rest of CRDL trying to tend to their conquered leader.

Needless to say, Pyrrha was impressed. This was the second time Jaune had avenged her against Cardin. He really did refuse to let anyone who hurt her go unpunished.

Smiling, she squeezed his hand, and further brightened when her seemingly sombre lover stroked his thumb across her knuckles.

Peony had better watch out.

 

Indeed she had. For though very hungover and repenting the dodgy cocktail she made herself last night, Yang’s reaction to the mark on Ruby’s cheek had been scary at best. And when Weiss told her exactly what had happened, lilac eyes deepened to angry crimson, and golden hair flamed.

Her roar could have shaken the ground, fury exploding brighter than the throbbing head, “SHE _WHAT?”_

“Peony slapped her,” Weiss calmly replied, somewhat enjoying the brawler’s reaction. If it meant seeing one of her least favourite people getting their just desserts, she was willing to hear Yang shout and rave for as long as she wanted.

Yang stamped a foot and the furniture trembled. “HOW DARE SHE? NO ONE AND I MEAN _NO ONE_ LAYS A HAND ON MY SISTER! I’M GONNA HIT HER SO HARD, SHE’LL THINK THAT PUNCH FROM PYRRHA WAS A MASSAGE!”

Blake grumpily hid her head under the pillow to drown out the noise while Ruby traced the swollen, stinging mark. Her Aura would heal it up soon enough, but Weiss had instructed her to delay it for as long as possible should they see Professor Goodwitch about it. Which, at this rate, they probably would. They hadn’t yet learnt about Jaune punching Cardin, but dealing with Peony Yang-style would surely have at least some of them back in Goodwitch’s office.

“Please be careful, Yang,” Ruby mumbled. “I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

The flames died down for her sister, but the eyes remained blood red. “But it won’t be because of you, will it? It’ll be because of her! If she had just left Jaune alone she wouldn’t have gotten puked on! THIS IS ALL HER OWN FAULT! AND I’M GONNA MAKE SURE SHE LEARNS THAT – AFTER I’VE HAD A STRONG COFFEE.”

 

Her dress still stank of sick. 

Peony had returned straight to Beacon after her scream fest, and plunged into the shower fully clothed. After frantically scrubbing herself down – twice, clothes on and off – she did her best to remove all traces of Ruby’s stomach from her dress and shoes. She used everything: shampoo, shower gel, soap, perfume; a concoction of floral and chemical fragrances were poured onto the garments. 

But it was hopeless. There was an ugly stain all down the dress and it reeked. It was as if Ruby had left her own putrid mark, while Peony repaid her with a petal-shaped sting. As for the shoes, she gave up on them and chucked them straight into the trash. Surely her aunt would buy her a new pair.

But the dress! That dress was beautiful! Glamorous and dainty, it defined her curves and showed her skin and represented her as the perfect girl that she was. And now it was ruined! HER DRESS WAS RUINED AND WOULD STAY THAT WAY FOREVER!

In one last attempt, Peony left it to soak in a sink filled to the brim of bubbly, soapy, herb-smelling water. If no one disturbed it, hopefully the stain would fade. Then she could take it to the laundrette, wash it at least three times, then everything would be…

Oh, who was she kidding? How could she ever where it again when though the stain could be gone, the memory would never fade? She would be repulsed by it for life. Not to mention that it would still probably stink. Not of vomit so much, but vodka. WHY ON REMNANT HAD RUBY ROSE BEEN DRINKING VODKA???

That stupid, stupid, stupid brat. She would pay. The slap wasn’t enough, it was too quick and merciful, and it was flung in the spur of the moment. The punishment Peony had in mind was much more calculating and satisfying.

Ruby had taken something from her; that beautiful dress cold never be worn again. Not to mention that the act itself was both vile and humiliating. Therefore, in recompense, Ruby would have something taken from her. Something that she would also hate to be vomited on.

So, that night, Peony took it.

She snuck out of her dorm, shrouded by the dark and her teammates’ snores and sleeping breaths. It was nice to leave it after spending most of the day in there. Given Yang’s protectiveness over her little sister, and her violent temper, Peony guessed that the blonde brawler would lunge for her on sight. Personally, Peony didn’t want another ugly bruise to blemish her otherwise flawless features. Didn’t anyone realise the pedantic nature of her moisturising ritual she underwent every morning and evening?

She slipped into the Beacon first years’ block easily; spending so much time with Jaune meant that she now knew the entrance code by heart. Even in the dark, she knew where to go. Up the staircase to the third floor, down the corridor to the second door on the right…yes, this was where she needed to be.

Beside each door was a small plaque listing the names of its habitants. Though it was dark, Peony could still make out the name at the top of this one, in capitalised letters like the others: RUBY ROSE.

She scowled at the words, then turned to face the door opposite. Her fingers gently traced the name at the top of this plaque: JAUNE ARC. Then scratched at the third one beneath: PYRRHA NIKOS. 

Peony would get back on to the Jaune and Pyrrha issue soon enough. But first, Ruby. 

Her hand found the cool metal of the door handle, and slowly it twisted. The door crept open with the faintest of squeaks, but not enough to stir the four girls within. Soft breaths rose and fell, each bunk displaying a bulge that was a sleeping body.

The flower girl grinned as her prize awaited her in the darkness. Swung over the bedpost of Ruby’s bunk, it looked more like a shadowy ghost, and probably would have freaked most people out. But Peony had crept in too cautiously to be taken by surprise at it. Plus she could make out the faint shades of red amongst the dark folds. 

Grasping the soft fabric, she pulled the cloak down, hood slipping from the bedpost. She hastily folded it in her arms before tiptoeing out as quietly as she had entered. The door was closed with a faint squeak and a light thump. In her bed, Blake’s ears twitched but she didn’t wake up. Ruby rolled onto her back and unconsciously moaned as red like roses filled her dreams.

 

_____________________________________________________  
Another short-ish one to warm you all up for another big chapter. I was overdue an update, and this chapter was getting too long once again and was thus split in half.

I'm glad you all loved Peony getting vomited on. Guess I'll have to think up some more disgusting and humiliating punishments for her ;)


	29. War of the Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang's hungry for breakfast, as toasted Peony is on the menu. Meanwhile, Ruby undertakes a daring espionage mission to reclaim a particular treasure...

As soon as she woke up, Ruby knew there was something wrong. She wasn’t quite sure how she knew, but it was as though there was a dislodging in her soul, like a piece of it was missing. Her soul knew before her brain did.

Bolting upright, her eyes confirmed what was wrong. Her bedpost was alarmingly bare. And brown; no red in sight.

Her hood was gone.

She all but leapt down from her bunk. The rest of her teammates were still asleep, but she made no effort to quieten her search. Closet doors were yanked open, bed covers flung, desks rifled, underneath the beds thoroughly investigated. It was when she started checking behind the bookcase that Blake peeled her eyes open at the drama.

“Ruby, what are you doing?”

The younger girl was sprawled across the bookcase as her arm and head disappeared behind it. “I’m looking for my hood!”

“Huh?” Blake’s eyes trailed to the bed post from which the red garment usually hung. It was bare. “Are you sure you didn’t hang it in the closet?”

Ruby’s head reappeared as she began to pick herself up. “I’m sure.” She hugged her knees to her chin. “I’ve checked everywhere.”

With a small sigh, Blake rolled onto her back to give the matrass above a hard kick. Yang bolted upright with a yelp.

“Ouch! What the hell?”

Blake cut right to it. “Yang, your sister’s cloak is missing.”

“Huh?” Yang rubbed her eyes, and peered over the edge of the bunk and down at her sister, bundled on the bookcase, a troubled expression replacing her normal jovial.

“Checked everywhere, sis?”

Ruby nodded glumly.

Yang swung her legs over the bed and cast a sunny beam down at her. “I’m sure it’ll turn up. Let’s wake Weiss up so we can all search together; you might have missed something.”

As hopeful as the proposition was, even with the four of them working together, there was no sign of the cape. So they took things further, and investigated team JNPR’s dorm. Yang didn’t even knock as she barged straight through the door, sending it crashing into the wall.

There were three screams. Pyrrha was startled at the sudden noise. Nora’s was an ecstatic morning greeting to her favourite member of their wing team. Jaune was topless as emitted his high-pitched squeal before diving under the covers. Ren was still fast asleep.

Jaune’s muffled voice shouted from beneath the covers, “Yang, what have we told you about knocking?!”

The brawler ignored him. “Ok, folks, listen up! No one is leaving this room until we’ve searched every crook and nanny!”

“Nook and cranny,” Blake corrected.

“Why? What are you looking for?” said Pyrrha, scanning the four girls. Whatever it was, they had evidently been searching for it since they’d awoken, given that all four were still clad in their pyjamas while most of JNPR were in their uniforms – or halfway there in Jaune’s case. Ren was still asleep.

“Ruby’s hood is missing,” Yang quickly explained. “We don’t know how and we don’t know why, but we do know that it’s not in our dorm.”

“What makes you think it’ll be in ours?”

“Just the fact that it’s not where it should be. Now quit the jibber-jabber and get looking!”

Pyrrha clamped her mouth shut and meekly obeyed, starting with the closet she shared with Jaune. Nora set about checking under the beds, and when Jaune had pulled on his shirt, he checked everywhere else. Ren remained asleep.

After ten minutes of searching, it was concluded that the cape wasn’t there either.

“It could be in your locker,” Pyrrha suggested.

Ruby was pretty sure it wasn’t, but checked there anyway as soon as they were dressed. She flung the metal door open and, as she expected, the only red object in there was her scythe, folded and dormant. 

“It’s not there either!” she despaired. “Ohh, what am I gonna do?” Her cape was one of the closest things she had to her mother; while it hadn’t belonged to her, it was a constant reminder of her. Without it, Ruby felt naked. It was like facing a thousand beowolves without her beloved weapon. 

While the other girls consoled their leader, Blake was thinking. Last night, she had a dream. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if it _was_ a dream. Slowly, it became more real, it made more sense, it fit into their situation perfectly. 

“Guys,” she said. “I think I know what might have happened.”

Interested, the three girls looked expectantly at her. Ruby was all ears for any kind of lead.

“Last night,” Blake went on, “I had a dream. Or at least, I thought it was a dream. But now I think it could be real, but I was too tired to realise…”

“Just get straight to the point,” Weiss sighed.

So Blake did. “Someone came into our dorm.”

Three pairs of eyes stared at her, hoping for more.

“And then they left,” the faunus finished. “That’s all I remember. I didn’t even see them; my eyes were shut.”

“Wait…” Yang stroked her chin. “You mean to say that Ruby’s hood has been _stolen?”_

“Something along those lines.”

“It’s been cape-napped?” Ruby gasped.

“I guess…”

“But who would do such a thing?” Weiss blurted.

Before she’d even finished the question, all four of them knew the answer. They exchanged glances, confirming what they all thought. The spoke the name in perfect unison.

“Peony.”

 

As it happened, Yang still owed Peony a punch to the face, she was more than happy to storm ahead to the dining hall to find “that cock-sucking bitch”. The blonde brawer, stalked straight past team JNPR’s table where she would normally sit, ignoring Nora’s cheerful invite to sit with them like they did every day. Yang would have breakfast soon enough anyway, because Peony was toast.

She soon spotted the flower girl; the floral crown wasn’t hard to miss. Ironically, Peony was daintily nibbling at a piece of toast herself. She only noticed Yang’s arrival when a fist crashed onto the table.

She squealed, gaping up at the burning red eyes.

“YOU’RE A DEAD BITCH, PEONY!” Yang thundered. The hall silenced as her voice reverberated around the high walls and ceiling, and several hundred pairs of eyes were drawn to her. But she continued as if the place was empty, “I’M GONNA SHOW YOU WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU HURT MY LITTLE SISTER!”

Peony cast a frightened look at her teammates beside her, but Orchid and Iris had slid further along the bench, away from the furious red eyes. Poppy stood beside her pink teammate, and attempted to calm Yang down.

“Look, Yang,” she said, wavering voice betraying her own fear. “Can’t we just talk about this before someone gets hurt?”

Despite not being spoken, the answer was a clear and definite no. Yang’s fist flew across the table and into Peony’s face. Much more devastating than Pyrrha’s attack, the punch flung Peony off her seat and into the table behind her. 

In an instant, there was chaos. 

The entire hall gasped or screamed or cheered, and hundreds of students rushed to crowd around the fight which was unfolding. Yang leapt over the table to deliver Peony a whole barrage of punches. The flower girl squealed and shrieked as it felt as though her face was being crushed from all directions. She tried to guard herself with her hands, only to have them yanked away and knuckles smashing into her again. Poppy tried to halt the fight by grabbing Yang’s arms, but the brawler was much too strong. Orchid and Iris snapped out of their petrified state and tried to help their leader pull Yang away. Even with their combined strength, they were too weak and the hits continued and screams shook the room.

Red-eyed and submersed in her anger, Yang wasn’t even aware of her surroundings anymore. The cheering and the screaming muffled in her head, sounding so distant and otherworldly. She watched in satisfaction as each fist jerked Peony’s bruised face to one side, and then the other, then back again. The flower girl’s aura was ebbing away, and soon the bruises would be accompanied by broken bones and blood.

She deserved it.

This wasn’t just for her hitting Ruby or stealing her hood. This was for barging into their lives. This was for everything she’d done to Jaune as he did everything to keep his team and his love safe. This was for everything she’d done to Pyrrha just for being there. This…was…for…EVERYTHING.

So deep was she in her furious reverie, she barely heard the normally regal voice of Pyrrha now tainted with panic.

“YANG, STOP!”

She felt yet more arms surround her, and she had a harder job of flinging them off. Pyrrha had hugged her arms around Yang’s body in an attempt to minimise her movements and drag her away. But the champion wasn’t strong enough, and Yang and her fists broke free. So then Pyrrha grabbed one arm, and Nora the other, screaming for her to stop, for the lilac eyes to return and the flaming hair to extinguish. But flames still raged and eyes burned. People were now trying to pull the injured girl away, but Yang couldn’t let them. One arm wrenched free from Pyrrha’s grip and its fist collided into Peony’s jaw. And then again. And again.

Too many voices were telling her to stop now. She couldn’t differentiate one from the other. They all blended into one. Until one rang out, young and clear, sweet as roses.

“YANG, YOU CAN STOP NOW!”

Ruby had always had an effect on her. She was her greatest weakness. Yang faltered, her free fist raised and poised for another strike, her eyes flickered back to lilac. In that moment, the opportunity was seized. At least ten pairs of hands dragged her away while Peony was surrounded by her own team and several others, some forming a human shield. For a moment, Yang felt the urge to charge forward, to plough them down just to take on the flower girl again, but a small, dark-haired, capeless girl hugged her by the torso.

“That’s enough now, Yang.”

Silver eyes shone up at her, innocent and pleading. Yang relented, and allowed herself to be escorted by too many people out of the hall. Evidently, just in time, as the thunderous voice of Professor Goodwitch thundered around the high walls behind them, “JUST WHAT IT GOING ON?”

Yang vaguely wondered how she even knew about the commotion, but she wasn’t prepared to face a punishment for a perfectly justified act. She brushed off the hands that had dragged her out, wrenching her arm from Nora, and stalked away. Blake and Ruby ran after her and tried to calm her down some more and reason with her. 

Weiss glanced at the small crowd of people that it grabbed the brawler, then at Yang, then at the hall, then at JNPR, then at Yang again. Her icy eyes finally landed on Jaune.  
“You know, Jaune, this is partly your fault.”

He scoffed at her, hurt. _“My_ fault?”

“Partly. If you had just grown a spine the first time that brat arrived, none of this would ever have happened!” She turned on her heel and flounced to her retreating team.

As the small crowd dispersed, Jaune watched the white-haired heiress growing smaller and smaller, her icicle words stinging. She was right, he realised. If only he’d stood up to Peony from the beginning. Perhaps by giving in, it had given her too much hope to cling onto, which was why she still persisted? But…but what would she have done to his friends if he did refuse her? What would she have done to Pyrrha? After all, he only gave into her to protect them all.

He felt his girlfriend’s strong, reassuring hand grip his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “Weiss is just enraged at the whole situation. Peony is the problem, not you. It was never you.”

Jaune smiled at her words. She always had a way of convincing him that he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. He supposed it was because she had an outside perspective.

The stomping clicks of heels announced Goodwitch’s arrival. The stormy look on her face was terrifying, and her lime green eyes had darkened with rage. She marched to the open door, stepping out into the brilliant sunshine to glare at the team before her.

“Where is Miss Xiao Long?” she demanded.

JNPR exchanged uncertain glances, wanting to protect their friend. After a brief, indecisive pause, it was Nora who spoke up: “Not here.”

Goodwitch’s eyes narrowed. “I can see that, Miss Valkyrie. But where did she go?”

“We don’t know,” said Pyrrha, a little too hastily.

The professor pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. “Her dormitory, I presume,” she sighed, and began storming in that direction. Exasperated, she muttered under her breath, “Why is it always that Peony girl?”

 

When found and taken to Goodwitch’s office, Yang protested bitterly against her punishment. Pyrrha had gotten away with punching Peony, so why couldn’t she? The difference was that Pyrrha delivered only one punch. Yang’s attack was continuous, unprovoked and relentless. As such, she would be suspended for a couple of days and sit detentions for the next two weeks.

Goodwitch did also point out that Peony herself would receive punishment for absconding her warning of keeping clear of teams RWBY and JNPR, and for hitting Ruby.

“Though it wasn’t on the school grounds, as students you are our responsibility to show justice when any disagreeable act is committed.”

While Yang’s suspension was activated effective immediately, Peony would not yet receive her punishment as she was still being tended to by Nurse Hope. Her aura was drastically low and the bruises were horrific, but by the time combat class came around she was as fresh-faced as a daisy again.

“Look at her,” Weiss whispered, glowering at her from across the arena. “Glaring at us like it’s all our fault. It’s not like she’s in pain anymore.”

Calm and composed, Blake responded, “Well, this _is_ the second time one of us has punched her.”

“Well, I volunteer to make it a third! She’s such a fake, whiney, insufferable little brat!”

“Ssh! Not so loud!”

While the two shared their thoughts on Peony, Ruby sat beside them, fiddling with the hem of her combat skirt, uncharacteristically silent. She couldn’t fight like this, without the one of the most important things that defined her as Ruby Rose. Her back was horribly bare, and she constantly worried that someone could swipe her scythe right off her holster without the protection of the cape. Her shoulders felt uncomfortably light from not withholding the material’s weight.

Jaune commented on how different she looked without it. It looked wrong, he had said, like an incomplete jigsaw. Ruby agreed. Not only did she look it, she felt it too. There was a deep, empty void inside her. It hadn’t been opened up like that for years. She had worn a hood for as long as she could remember, as it reminded her of her mother and how she used to sweep her up in her arms and bundle her up in her own rose white cloak. Ruby’s capes helped fill that gap her mother left behind. 

How could Peony do this? If it was Peony at all, which everyone else seemed to think so. It was just like when she stole Pyrrha’s coronet – that wasn’t simply a headdress, it was a sentimental gift. Unlike that episode, Ruby hoped that reuniting with her cape wouldn’t involve icy lakes and freezing cold water.

She refused to fight when Goodwitch called her name. Her excuse was that she had a headache. She almost wished that she hadn’t refused when she found out that Peony would have been her opponent. At that, Nora readily volunteered to fight. Cowardly as she was, Peony then backed out and had Poppy battle the hammer-wielder in her place.

It was a ferocious fight, the battered Poppy only just scraping a victory thanks to some tactical cunning and a little luck. Being the faster of the two, she would dodge and stab at any openings, and though she was only struck by Magnhild a four times, the amount of Aura each hit took was staggering. 

“You didn’t seem to be in top form that time,” Jaune observed as his teammate rejoined them in the stands.

Nora shrugged. “I didn’t really want to fight her.”

After witnessing her leader take on the devastating hammer, Peony was glad she backed out. The horrendous battering from Yang was bad enough, and though Nurse Hope had easily patched her up, she was in no mood to fight anyone.

That didn’t mean that she wasn’t afraid to sneak a few sneering words at Ruby when they returned to the locker rooms. Yang wasn’t there; suspended, so she heard. And the younger girl just looked so weird without her trademark cloak that Peony simply _had_ to make a comment about it. The little brat deserved it anyway, after what she did on Saturday.

As Ruby opened her locker, from her bench Peony cawed at her capeless back, “Hey, Ruby, has anyone told you how great you look without your hood?” As the silver-eyed girl turned to cast her a blank look, Peony smirked and continued, “You’re friends were probably too kind to tell you, that thing looked hideous on you!”

In an instant, she felt much better already. By undermining her opponent, the tatters of her pride began to piece back together.

“Oh, leave her alone!” Weiss snapped as she looped a comforting arm over her friend’s shoulders.

“Don’t you learn _anything?”_ Blake added. “For someone who was on the receiving end of an angry Yang a few hours ago, you have a lot of gall.”

“And thanks to you,” Weiss continued, “she’s in a lot of trouble!”

Peony inspected her polished nails in an infuriatingly nonchalant manner. “Well, she shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

 _“You_ shouldn’t have hit Ruby and stolen her hood!”

Peony hadn’t expected a counterargument, and her desire to protect her innocence gave her away. “She shouldn’t have vomited on me!”

A smile spread on the Ice Queen’s lips. It was cold and triumphant, and reserved for only those she detested. It wasn’t a nice smile. “So,” she said. “That’s what this is all about?”

From their lockers, team JNPR were also watching in keen interest. 

Jaune regarded Peony in disgust, “You stole Ruby’s hood just because of an accident?” 

“W-what? No!” Magenta eyes rounded. “That has nothing to do with me!”

“But you just agreed that you _did,”_ he pointed out, and the others nodded and murmured in agreement.

“I-I didn’t hear what she said!” Peony spluttered, panicked as her picture of innocence wilted away.

Stoic and observant, Ren said, “Your eyes give it all away.”

It was true. No matter how much Peony could widen her eyes and flutter her lashes, the fact that they shifted from one thing to another, not fully focusing on anyone, proved her discomfort as she avoided the truth.

Finally her temper flared, and she held them all in a collective glare. “Fine. I _did_ take it. But not without a reason: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a dress for a…hood.”

A hurt snivel came from Ruby. “Y-you stole it?”

“Where is it?” Weiss demanded, before jabbing an accusative finger at the flower girl. “Tell us or one of us will hit you again – most likely Nora.” 

The girl in question bared her fists and wore a not-completely-sane grin. “Legs will be broken!”

“I can’t tell you _exactly_ where it is,” Peony snapped. “This is Ruby’s punishment after all. What I can tell you is that it’s in a safe place and that it’ completely intact. Although, that won’t be the case if any of you attack me again. One hit equals one generous rip.”

Ruby gasped as her eyes stung with tears, and Pyrrha murmured to Nora to lower her fists.

“You’re blackmailing us?” Blake blurted. 

“I’m just guaranteeing my safety.”

“When will you give it back?”

“Hmm…good question. I was thinking…after the tournament? I’ll return it just before I return to Haven.”

“But…” A tear slid down Ruby’s cheek. “That’s weeks away! I can’t go without it for that long.”

“Fuck sakes.” Peony rolled her eyes and swept up her gym bag. “Don’t be so shallow; it’s just a hood!” She minced out of the room, not wanting to spend a minute longer with them. Weiss screamed a barrage of sophisticatedly-worded insults after her, but she showed no reaction other than slamming the door with a deliberate bang.

“The nerve of her!” the heiress ranted. “Calling Ruby shallow when she’s the one acting this way because of a stupid dress!”

But Ruby wasn’t particularly hurt by that. She was too busy mulling over Peony’s previous words. She had the cape, and it was safe. Since she didn’t know Beacon overly well, there was really only one place she could safely stow anything away.

A plan slowly grew in her head. It was crazy and dangerous and Weiss would most likely object to it…but now that the cape was gone, what else did they have to lose?

 

Ruby was right: Weiss _did_ object to the plan. The heiress went along with it anyway, seeing as she couldn’t talk her leader out of it and she was well aware how much the cloak meant to her.

“I’ll be quick,” the rose girl had insisted. “I’ll be in and out.” 

She was in, but not yet out. The exchange students’ block loomed before Weiss as she waited and tried to look as neutral as possible. She pretended to be busy texting on her scroll, when in fact she was on the lookout, stealing furtive glances at her surroundings, watching out for any sign that she was needed. They had a plan in case Ruby was caught. Even so, woe betide her should that happen…

The girl in question had spent the past five minutes scampering all over the block just to find the correct dorm. She fist-pumped in triumph when she finally found the paper plaque with ‘Peony Bloom’ somewhere on it. As a precaution, she knocked on the door. 

No response. 

All clear and good to go. 

Ruby slowly eased the door open, tensing at the tiniest of creeks. She only opened it wide enough for her head to peek through and check her surroundings.

The coast was still clear, and she was still good to go.

She brought her whole body through the door before shutting it behind her. Curious, she took a moment to survey the whole room. So, this was the notorious Peony’s base of operations.

Four beds lined along the wall opposite the door, just like any other dorm. Four desks, two in-built closets, a circular rug… The only thing that separated this dorm from any other was the personal possessions. Ruby showed particular interest in Peony’s – it was easy to tell which were hers. The ample collection sparkly shoes under the second bed from the right, the flimsy pink nightgown stretched on the covers, the peony-coloured stationery set on the desk, accompanied by a whole army of nail varnish, lip gloss and a whole other bunch of makeup that Ruby wasn’t interested in. She vaguely wondered how Peony found the time to apply it all.

She banished the distracting thoughts away with a shake of her head, and turned her full attention to the task at hand. The pink belongings could be clues to the hood’s whereabouts. After all, why would Peony hide something she’d stolen amongst one of her teammate’s things? Though obvious rivals with RWBY, the rest of team POPI seemed decent enough to return anything that had been unjustly taken.

The first place Ruby checked was under the bed. There were yet more shoes there, and she had to move some around just to get a proper view. Other than them and a couple of empty suitcases, there was nothing else there. 

Next to be searched was the closet – logically, the one on the same side as Peony’s bed. When Ruby threw the doors open, she was almost blinded by the atrocious amount of pink. Dresses, blouses, skirt, coats, all a different shade of the colour. It seemed Peony had completely dominated this closet while whoever owned the red clothing squashed in the corner simply didn’t have that wide a range. Ruby assumed this person to be Poppy.

The material swallowed her hands as she pushed it aside to check right to the back of the closet. The closest thing to red on Peony’s side was a deep magenta cardigan. The hood wasn’t even blended into Poppy’s side, nor was it in stuffed behind the drawers that beheld their respective underwear – this Ruby didn’t spend too long checking.  
She closed the door in defeat. The only other places it could be were amongst the other girls’ things. The other three beds were hunted, left closet combed, even behind the curtains checked in case Peony had actually been smart enough to use camouflage as a hiding place. 

Ruby expelled a frustrated sob. It was hopeless. It wasn’t in here after all; Peony had been cleverer than she thought. So if it wasn’t here, where else could it be?

Lost in the gloom and hopelessness, Ruby threw herself onto Peony’s bed and began to cry. She didn’t care that her tears soaked into the pillow. She didn’t care that her body crumpled the nightgown. Losing her hood was almost like losing her mother all over again. It was a piece of her, her symbol, and one that Ruby treasured very dearly. It was cruel how Peony could whimsically take away things so precious to others so she could use them for her own gain. Had she no sentimental treasure of her own?

Sobbing, Ruby rolled right to the edge of the bed to find a cooler spot for her heated cheeks. She rested her head on the corner, gazing sorrowfully down at the floor…and saw it.

A small piece of red sticking out from under the mattress. 

Heart leaping with joy, she bolted off the bed to tug at the mysterious fabric. The soft texture felt so familiar to her fingertips already. As she pulled, more of it was pried free. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, Ruby lifted the mattress up, and almost burst into song.

Her hood was splayed along the bed springs like a pool of blood. It was a little creased and crushed and crumbled, but it was there. She wrenched it out and let the mattress drop back to the bed frame as she hugged the garment to her body. It was like hugging her mother, when Summer Rose would wrap her in her own cloak and hold her in a tight embrace. 

Ruby inhaled its rose petal scent, tinged with the musty odour of the bed. It would need a wash and ironing, and she would gladly do it all herself.

“Thank Oum,” she whispered, and the fabric dried her tears.

Then she froze.

Footsteps, and voices advanced to the door. There was the distinctive click of heels. Ruby prayed that they were just passing students.

The noises grew louder, voices now silenced as if the conversation was merely an exchange of a few words. The footsteps stopped right outside the door.

Ruby held her cape tighter her body, once again the toddler clinging onto her mother.

_Please, please, please…_

The handle clicked and turned. Her heart dropped. In a flash of rose petals, Ruby disappeared behind the curtain. Thankfully the petals had disintegrated by the time the door opened and a whole group of footsteps poured in.

Peony’s shrill rant filled the room, “A whole week? It’s absolutely criminal! And after I was so ruthlessly attacked today too!”

“Detentions aren’t _that_ bad,” an airy voice reassured her – Iris.

“But I’ve already worked my butt off tending to this damn school’s gardens! Surely she could have cut me some slack?”

The frank, gravelly voice of Orchid spoke, “Well…hitting a kid _does_ sound pretty bad.”

“I’ve already told you: they’re all exaggerating to make me look bad! The hit wasn’t _that_ hard, and it was well deserved anyway!”

Hearing the references to her, Ruby felt her heartrate increase. She tried to steady her breathing, so not as to be audible or disturb the curtains. It didn’t help matters that in order to be completely concealed, she had to tightly hug her body to fit on the windowsill, and crush her calves against her thighs to keep her feet from peeking out. And all that was between her and the ground outside was a slab of glass. So, no: steady, quiet breathing was not easy at all.

“And that bust blonde bitch only got two weeks’ worth of detentions!” Peony raved on. “That makes my punishment only _half_ of hers! How is a little slap _half_ the seriousness of violent, continuous assault!”

“Well,” said Iris, “you did breach Goodwitch’s warning of staying away from them…”

“I can’t help it if they go to the same party as me!”

The calm voice of Poppy joined in, “Peony, the point is, you don’t stay away from them when it’s best for everyone that you should. You go to them, not the other way around. And it’s all because of one guy. _Let go._ He’s your first love, and undoubtedly the last.”

Ruby wanted to leap out from behind the curtain and throw her arms around Poppy. With such wise words from Peony’s own team leader, perhaps there was hope that this would all come to an end?

No such luck.

Peony unleashed a wavering, high-pitched whine that signalled the start of one of her tantrums. “None of you understand! This is _love!_ I can’t stand idly by while my true love is held captive in the arms of another!”

Ruby nearly wretched. _True love?_ Did Peony think she was in some kind of fairytale or something? A _twisted_ fairytale, if any – in which she didn’t know that _she_ was the villain.

“Don’t you know how much pain I’m in?” the pink girl continued, voice cracking. “To see Pyrrha with my Jaune? It hurts so much! All I crave is for him to hold me in his arms again…” For emphasis, she wrapped herself in the curtains – and Ruby’s blood ran cold. It wasn’t the curtain she was hiding behind, but for the first time she could see a slither of Peony’s petal combat skirt and brown locks. If she were to look a little to her left, she would surely see the intruder…

“…And tell me how much he loves me!” She released herself from the curtain to twirl out of Ruby’s view. As the other girls tried to reason once more with their romantic teammate, the younger girl was growing desperate. She could only imagine the trouble she would be in if they found her. She didn’t want to imagine what Peony would do. She was capable of many things…

Helpless, Ruby put her hands together, and prayed.

_Lord Oum, I don’t do this very often, but just in case this hands together stuff actually works, PLEASE don’t let them find me! I’ll be good from now on, I promise! I won’t steal Blake’s books, especially that one with the explicit adult stuff that I still don’t understand no matter how much I try to decipher it! I’ll never steal a single cookie from Nora again! I WILL LEAVE ALL OF WEISS’S STATIONERY ALONE, I PROMISE! JUST PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE…!_

_“Red like roses fills my head with dreams and finds me…”_

Ruby’s heart stopped. That song, the powerful voices, the kickass drums, the mournful melody…it was her scroll’s ringtone. The voices beyond the curtain had ceased all together. Her fingers shook as she fumbled for the scroll in her pouch, only just managing to glimpse the picture of the caller: Yang. She quickly tapped “Reject call”, but it was too late.

The silence was horrible. The only sounds came from herself. She had lost control of her breathing.

The footsteps began again. Heavy boots. They were coming to her. Ruby’s fingernails clawed into her cape.

A pale hand gripped the curtain, and wrenched it away. She felt as though her soul were wrenched away with it. All that filled her now was cold, cold fear.

The wide eyes that gaped at her confirmed one thing: she was doomed.

“What are you doing here?!” Poppy gasped, outrage welling in her tone.

“I’m sorry!” Ruby blurted, bolting to her feet to fill the window with her height. She hugged her cape close to her, tighter than ever, and met Peony’s burning magenta eyes. It was like staring into her own doom. 

“I-I…” she began again, not knowing what to do. She tried to back away but the window pressed against her. 

_Wait…the window! The escape plan!_

“You little brat!” Peony hissed. “Sneaking into our dorm! What are you trying to steal from us?”

Ruby’s hand grasped the tiny handle, and twisted. It gave her enough courage to retort, “I might ask you the same thing!”

And to POPI’s surprise and Peony’s frustration, she flung the window open and leapt out.

In order to cover as much ground as possible, she used a burst of her Semblance as she kicked off the ledge. But now she was falling, her cloak flailing with her like it always did, rose petals trailing in their wake.

As she flew, she screamed one word: “WEEEIIIIISSSSS!”

Far below, the white-haired girl heard the alarm, and saw the streaking red figure. She leapt into action, fulfilling her part of the emergency-escape plan. Thrusting one hand out at the falling girl, a glyph manifested in Ruby’s path, and she bounced into it like a fly to a spider’s web.

“Hang on!” Weiss called, and made another glyph directly underneath, so as to dissolve the first one and have Ruby drop safely to the ground. She landed on her backside, still clutching the cape.

“It was a success then!” the heiress commented as she helped her up.

Ruby nodded with a grin, then cast her silver eyes up at the open window four floors away. Team POPI were leaning out, shouting at them. Peony screamed. Then the first pink petal sliced towards them, stinging across Ruby’s cheek where the red bruise had been.

“We have to go!” Weiss cried, grabbing her teammate’s hand to lead her into a run.

They ran and ran, Ruby slowing deliberately for her friend, marvelling at how one could run in such high heels. They disappeared amongst the Beacon students’ blocks, and though they were out of danger, continued running. With their pants came giggles, and then laughter at the feat they had just performed. 

“Aw, man, I can’t believe we did it!” Ruby enthused as they raced up the steps. “I told you it was a good idea! The espionage, the epic escape – it was just like a James Pond movie!”

“Or book,” the intellectual Weiss added through her own laughter. “Oh, Ru, why are we even laughing? I think we’ve sealed our doom with the Bloom!”

“Ooo, that’s a good one! I can tell you’ve been practising.”

Deep down, both already knew why they were laughing. They all did once the others had learned of their success. Once again, together, they had triumphed over Peony’s plot for pathetic revenge.

 

_______________________________________________________________________  
Another satisfying punishment for Peony. It was interesting more writing in Yang's POV for that. I punched in those words, feeling as angry as she did. More than anything, this chapter was a nice break from all the Jaune and Pyrrha stuff. Sometimes you just need a little variation.

Shout out to **Canterous** for the title chapter! It happened purely by accident, but hey, inspiration strikes anywhere. Thanks a lot, mate :D


	30. Joined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two people love each other very much.

As angry as team POPI were at Ruby for snooping in their dorm, rumour had it that they were even more so at Peony, who they had still refused to talk to three days later. After it emerged that Peony had stolen the cloak and had clearly lacked the will and capability to let go, her teammates kept away from her as punishment.

“‘She needs to learn her priorities’,” Ruby quoted Poppy to her own team. Her adored cape hugged her shoulders once again and she proudly swished it with each grandiose step. She had talked with Poppy about the events that had transpired, and though the older team leader didn’t hide her annoyance, she was reassuring in that she was willing to forgive.  
Perched on their beds, the other three members of RWBY nodded in approval.

“Either her team,” said Weiss, “or a bunch of people she’ll soon never see again.”

For three days now, Peony ate her meals alone and sat in the arena with a considerable gap between herself and her team. She gazed at her meal as she chomped or at her lap instead of paying attention to the battles or lectures. A few times she had been seen staring into space, a small frown pinching her brows, as if she was thinking.

“She’s probably planning her next bitch-attack,” Yang had remarked as she copied up from Weiss’s notes from the classes she had missed, thanks to her two-day suspension. “Whatever, we can handle it. Just thank God she hasn’t tried to sit near us like she would have done in the past.”

While Peony had been thinking and likely plotting and scheming, Pyrrha had been doing some thinking of her own. The deranged flower girl was the least of her worries. Well, perhaps not the least. Peony’s actions were atrocious and Ruby and Weiss’s escapade was funny and uplifting and Miss Bloom was likely plotting all of their dooms…but she was certainly not her priority.

After a lot of introspection, Pyrrha had come to a decision. The thought made her giddy with anticipation and her stomach coiled into so many knots that it affected her sparring with Jaune. She missed a block and Croeca Mors slashed across, sweeping Milo right out of her grip. The red sword skidded along the rooftop, thankfully towards the wall.

Jaune looked in confusion from the discarded weapon, to Pyrrha, to his own sword, and back. 

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Actually, no,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean you can stop. I’m a weapon short, use that to your advantage!”

Her lack of a sword reawakened her focus, and she was able to fend her partner off with only her shield. She couldn’t help but marvel at Jaune’s strength with each hit he beat down on the metal; the force vibrated up her arms and sometimes made her stagger. Before these nightly matches, he had already been able to block and resist a powerful from an ursa or a deathstalker. Imagine the strength he would have in a year or so’s time! 

_He’d be strong enough to hold you in his arms and pin you against the wall and…_

_Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!_

The intrusive thought was what caused her to be unready against Jaune’s next strike, the strongest of the lot. She staggered back, almost fell – then his hand flew out to grab her wrist. He pulled her back upright, and this time she crashed into his chest.

She simpered up at him. “Thank you. And, sorry.”

He smirked. “No problem. But are you sure you’re ok. You seem…I don’t know. Sloppy, I guess.”

“Heh, do I? Sorry. I might be a little tired.” She pulled away, but not completely. She was close enough to plant a kiss on his lips. “I think that concludes tonight’s session, then.”

“Ok.”

After returning their weapons to their lockers, the pair made their way back to their dorm. They were surprised to find it empty. It was Friday, and Ren and Nora had gone to see some more of the festival – the dances, most likely. Jaune tapped a text into his scroll.

_Jaune: Valkyrie, Ren! Report your positions!_

_Nora: Some dance party on a Valean street, somewhere far from Beacon. Our positions: NIGHT FEVER!_

_Jaune: …Still?_

_Nora: We’re dancing up a storm here! And you’re ruining my groove! >:(_

_Ren: Afterwards we’re getting pancakes._

_Nora: YESSSSSSSS_

_Ren: And maybe some decaf tea._

_Nora: NOOOOOO_

_Jaune: Ok, have fun. :)_

After peering over Jaune’s shoulder at the string of texts, Pyrrha private-messaged Nora.

_Pyrrha: Any ideas on how long you’ll be?_

_Nora: Another couple hours at least. There’s a midnight fireworks display!!!_

_Pyrrha: Ok. Good._

_Nora: Good? GOOD? Pyrrha, you’re GLAD to be deprived of my royal company?_

_Pyrrha: Sorry, I didn’t quite mean it like that._

_Nora: QUITE? Wait…what are you planning? ;)_

_Pyrrha: Enjoy the fireworks._

She switched her scroll off, not wanting any interruptions. She glanced up at Jaune, who was by his bed, removing his armour until he was clad in only his jeans and hoodie. She followed suit, casting off the leg guards, her boots, the belt, the sash, the armguard, the gloves, even her headdress. She arranged them neatly at the end of her own bed, revelling in the loose feeling in her limbs from the lack of extra weight. If it weren’t for her Semblance, walking with the heavy leg guards would be difficult at best.

Jaune flopped onto his bed, leaving his armour in an unsightly heap on the floor. He stretched his weary limbs, filling the entire length of the bed. “Think I’ll do that history paper ready for Monday,” he mumbled.

“Do it tomorrow,” said Pyrrha as she crawled beside him, and planted a firm, strong kiss on his mouth.

He responded immediately, knowing what it was she wanted. They’d done it plenty of times before now for him to read the signs, and with each time they did it, the more comfortable and natural it felt. It was ‘getting to know one another’, as his mother called it.

His hands roamed her body, caressing any exposed skin, before he pulled her down onto his body. She giggled in surprise, marvelling once again at his strength, and planted more kisses on his mouth, down to his jaw, then trailing down his neck. She felt him release her hair from its ponytail and letting it spill in a red cascade, curtaining their faces from the world. While their mouths locked again, his hand slid down the dip of her spine to her backside, where he squeezed.

Pyrrha giggled again, smirking into the kiss as she felt him gradually hardening beneath her. But it wasn’t until he reached up to start untying her cuirass that she pulled away, leaning back until she was sitting upright and straddling him.

“Listen, Jaune,” she said, entwining her fingers with his. Her heart hammered. She couldn’t quite believe what she was about to say to him – and sober at that.

He must have sensed her shyness, because he brought their locked hands to his chest and cast her an encouraging smile.

“I..” She swallowed, and started again. “Since we’re going to be alone for some time…I, er…” Why was it so difficult to say now? She’d said it perfectly fine when after drinking the Dionysian-wine-that-wasn’t-Dionysian-wine and the soda-that-was-definitely-not-soda. And given their previous antics, they’d taken the right steps to prepare for this.

In the end, she stuck to simplicity.

“I’m ready.”

He blinked at her, understanding immediately what those words meant. But still, he had to make sure.

“By that you mean…?”

Pyrrha nodded patiently. “Yes, Jaune.”

“As in…you know.”

“Yes.”

“So, you want to…” He pushed his crotch up against hers.

She closed her eyes a bit longer than she should have done, but the act felt so good. “Precisely,” she breathed.

A grin tugged one corner of his mouth higher than the other, as if he was trying to hide exactly how pleased he was to hear that. “Awesome. I just had to check. You know, in case I was doing one thing when you meant another. That would be awkward. And…I just want to make sure that you’re certain as well. I mean, a week ago at home you said you weren’t ready…”

“Well, I’m ready now. Get on with it.”

So he did. With renewed vigour, he pulled her back down so there was little space between their bodies, and as the battle for dominance in the mouth region commenced, his enthusiastic, clumsy fingers worked at the strings of the cuirass. But the intricate fastenings were too difficult to undo when he shook with excitement, so Pyrrha had to lean back once again to untie the first knot herself, leaving the rest loose enough for him to deal with. While he pulled at the strings, she slid her hands up an under his hoodie, caressing the toughened skin and muscle. As the rib-crushing corset began to lessen its grip, she pushed the hoodie up in an attempt to remove it completely, so that they could be bared together. That couldn’t quite be achieved, seeing as Jaune had to first sit up to let her pull the garment over his head before focusing back on her. The fastenings were now completely loosened, and he pulled the cuirass up and over her head.

He had done this before, and the first time he didn’t hide his surprise at the strapless bra she wore underneath.

“It’s just a precaution,” she had told him, “should the strings be severed in combat.”

Now the two sat up, kissing deeply, relishing in the feeling of their bare skin meeting one another. She clawed into his hair with one hand while the other gripped his shoulder. His hands wandered up and down her back, squeezing her backside, fiddling playfully with the bra strap, pretending to be about to unfasten it, before moving away to her hair or her waist. 

She could feel his arousal, hard and straining against his jeans. To tease him a little, she gently rocked her hips against him. It sent sparks flying from her own sensitive region, zipping up her entire body like those flung from a fire to the heavens. She ground against him now to not only entice him, but to entice herself. As his lips left her mouth to explore her neck, she rocked harder, wondering what it would feel like to do _it_ this way.

He trailed his kisses down to her collarbone, then lower, lower, lower… He stamped a path of red marks along the soft flesh of her breasts, before his mouth disappeared into her cleavage.

“Jaune!” She expelled a laugh when he licked her there, his tongue feeling delightfully soft and wet amongst the sensitive tissue.

He grinned bashfully up at her. “I just wanted to try it.”

She chuckled, hugging him close to her and kissing his head.

“So, uh…” He pulled away to gaze up at her. “D’you want to…go under the covers?”

A smirk spread across her lips. “Sure.”

They untangled themselves from one another, and dived beneath the covers, giggling and kissing and hugging. Pyrrha tried to climb back on top of him, but he surprised her by pinning her shoulders to the bed.

“So, you want to lead, do you?” she snickered playfully.

“Well, I…” Jaune blushed. “I’ve just kinda planned how this will go.”

“You’ve planned?”

“Well, not planned. I just had an idea. Trust me.” He shuffled away from her, down into the shadowy depths of the covers until he was completely submersed. She watched in curiosity as he crawled backwards down the bed, before raising one of her legs so he could slide underneath it. He propped himself on his elbows, between her legs, and brought his lips to one thigh.

“Ah, Jaune,” Pyrrha breathed, moaning again as his mouth travelled up and down her skin. Who knew that the inside thigh was so stimulating when _kissed?_ When one of her stockings was tugged, she leant up just enough to see what Jaune was doing next, and heat flooded her crotch.

Jaune had the stocking in his mouth, gripped between his teeth, and was trying to pull it down her leg accordingly. Evidently, he was struggling, given the tightness of the garment, and he looked like a puppy trying to win a game of tug-of-war with a much larger opponent.

Pyrrha fell back onto the pillow, shattered into peals of laughter. “Oh, Jaune, you’re so adorable!”

Jaune feigned hurt. “I thought it was a good idea.” He pulled the rest of the stocking down by hand, shoving it out of the covers, before crawling a little closer to his girlfriend. The grin he wore proved that he wasn’t really offended. “I guess you’ll just have to help me perfect that move sometime.”

There was more kissing, more touching. Jaune teasingly stroked Pyrrha’s crotch through her underwear, causing her to moan and beg him to remove it all. The second stocking joined the first on the floor. Then the skirt. Then both of Jaune’s belts.

Pyrrha didn’t remove his jeans straightaway. First, she allowed her fingers to slide up and down the hardening inside, before wrapping them around the bulge to add more friction. Judging by the pants that ragged from Jaune’s mouth, this felt good too.

“Just get on with it,” he said, mimicking her words from earlier. The only difference was that his voice was low and a lot sultrier.

Smirking, Pyrrha unzipped them, reaching in touch the arousal that was now a lot more defined without the thick layer of denim, before she took the hem and pulled. As much as Jaune tried to help her out by raising himself up, when the jeans reached his knees, he had to kick them off himself. They were nudged out of the end of the bed, dropping onto his pile of armour.

“Well…” Pyrrha bit back a giggle as she eyed the large tent pitched between his legs. This was a sight she’d seen only a couple of times before, but she swore that on this occasion it was larger than usual. She guessed that the prospect of what they were about to do affected him in that way.

“Well what?” he said, nuzzling her neck. His hands slowly crept up her back.

“Well nothing,” she sighed, settling into another invigorating kiss. As their mouths and tongues locked in a fiery exchange, Jaune’s fingers had reached her bra strap and now tried to unfasten it – for real. Unhooking bras wasn’t a feat he was used to, and it certainly wasn’t as easy as his dreams had made it out to be. He pulled at the straps, tugged at the little metal tags, twisted the two pieces in all directions until at last, they separated. The bra was flung onto the floor.

“Wow,” Jaune breathed, basking in the sight of his prize. This was the first time he’d seen Pyrrha topless, and it fascinated him. Oddly, her chest seemed slightly smaller when bare, but he supposed that being pushed up by the cuirass and the bra provided the illusion of them seeming larger. Not that he was disappointed – certainly not. He preferred seeing her like this, for who she was. That was how he’d always seen her.

“Jaune…” Pyrrha had now flushed a deep autumn red. “I know you don’t mean to stare, but…”

He blinked, shaking his head to bring himself back to Remnant. “Sorry. It’s just, I’ve never…well, seen, uh…”

A firm hand gripped his shoulder. Her voice was low and calm, “I know.”

“Can…can I touch them?”

There was a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “You’ve touched them before, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but not while I’m looking right at them.”

“Well, of course you can touch them. You don’t need to ask my permission. If I’m not comfortable with you doing something, I’ll tell you. But I highly doubt that will happen. Ok?”

“Ok,” said Jaune, and reached out with one tentative hand. The breast filled his grip, and was soft as ever as he moulded his fingers against the flesh. There was something so much more satisfying when he watched himself touch her, admiring the movement of skin and her chest expanding into his hands with each pant. She, too, was enjoying this a lot more with nothing to separate them. He was at a better angle and free to roam where either of them pleased. Golden sparks bolted from his touch all the way down to her crotch, pooling there in liquid need. She gasped as he brought his other hand to fondle the neglected breast, and then again as his thumbs rolled her nipples.

“Jaune, I… _ohhh.”_ She had been about to say that she was ready for him, but he had cut her off when he covered her nipple with his mouth, and left a trail of searing kisses thereafter. She moaned and cried into his shaggy hair as his mouth sucked and grazed her skin, paying particular attention to her nipples as they hardened. She slid a hand into her underwear to check…yes, she was definitely ready.

Though he’d had his face pressed against her chest, Jaune had acknowledged what she’d just done, and pulled at the waistband of her underwear. Helpfully, she rose on her knees so she could tug the final item of clothing down and drop it onto the floor by her bra. And now there was a naked Pyrrha Nikos kneeling before him, blushing beautifully, on his bed, the bedcovers having given up and left their bodies some time ago.

Without her clothing or her battle gear or anything, she was a world away from the famed warrior on a cereal box. Without all that, this was her core, and she didn’t look like Pyrrha Nikos, four-time champion of Mistral. She looked like Pyrrha – just Pyrrha. The true, fiery, passionate Pyrrha unbound from the cool, professional façade. This side of her couldn’t be drawn out by just anyone, and Jaune glowed in pride at that fact. He was in awe of her, he was overwhelmed by many different emotions; excitement, joy, fear, pride, passion, to name a few. He wanted to tell her what he felt, so he condensed into two words.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks were as red as autumn maple leaves. “Thank you, Jaune. You’re the first person to say so – and mean it. You’re…” She expelled a short laugh, and absentmindedly began to cover herself with her arms. “You’re the first person to see me like this.”

That was another fact Jaune took great pride in. But he didn’t let smugness get the better of him. Instead, he shuffled closer to her, and brought her arms away from her body to expose herself again. 

“Well, you’re the first person to see me naked too. I mean, you will be. And aside from my parents and my sisters, but not since I was a kid.”

She chuckled softly. “I know.” She brought her arms around him to bring him in for another kiss. He responded, his hands clawing gently down her back, one squeezing her naked backside which prompted an excited gasp on her part. Her breasts pushed against his chest, and her hands traced from his back down to his crotch, where she groped the stiff rod in his boxers.

He squirmed in her hold, and slid one finger up her moist divide, sweeping across her clit to get back at her. She bucked sharply, and he sniggered.

“You ready, then?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, before releasing herself to reassemble the covers and lie back beneath them. Jaune, meanwhile, reached under the bed, feeling around until he grasped the familiar little box. He brought it out and tore off the plastic packaging before sliding into bed next to her.

“Ok,” he mumbled to himself, and opened the box. 

“Aren’t those the condoms your mother gave you?”

“Yes.”

She scrutinized the looping letters embellishing the package. “‘Less Temps…Ro-man-ti-quess’?” 

_“‘Les Temps Romantiques’,”_ Jaune corrected her. “It’s Western Valean. It means ‘romantic times’.”

While he pulled out a foil packet, Pyrrha took the folded instruction booklet stuffed beside the goods. She opened it to scan the directions with interest and examined the simple illustrations.

“I _do_ know how to use one of these,” Jaune insisted. “We had Sex Ed classes.”

“As did we, but it’s not like I’ve ever used them for real.”

“Same.”

Under the covers, he pulled down his boxers and kicked them out of the end of the bed. Now he laid beside her, as naked as she was, their sides touching. Pyrrha abandoned the booklet to focus her attentions on keeping Jaune as hard as possible. She took a hold of his erection and stroked it, like she had done during their previous antics, but slower. While his member pulsed in her grip, Jaune tore the foil open and pulled out the rubber ring.

“Excuse me,” he murmured as he sat up, pulling himself away from Pyrrha’s hands. She watched him, fascinated, as he pinched the condom at his tip and rolled it down.

“What does it feel like?” she asked. His erection now had a smooth, plastic sheen, and it looked kind of tight. She supposed that it would have to be, in order for it to work.

“Um…it feels like there’s something on my penis,” said Jaune frankly. He positioned himself above her, his arms framing her head. Her legs bent on either side of him as her hips angled upwards, ready for his entry.

His blue eyes locked onto her green. “You’re sure you’re ready?”

“Absolutely.” Her voice was laced with want, and he didn’t want to keep her waiting any longer.

He pushed experimentally against her folds, enticing more impatient moans from her. He prodded her with his member, trying to find an entrance point.

“Lower,” Pyrrha guided him, her voice barely a whisper. “Ok, there. No – you missed.”

Jaune pushed himself up to guide himself with his hands. He lined his manhood up with her entrance, and pushed. Immediately, he was met with resistance.

“Ah!” Pyrrha cried out – and not with pleasure.

Jaune’s head snapped up. “Are you ok?”

“Y-yes, I’m fine! Keep going.”

“I’m trying.” 

Deciding that she wasn’t yet aroused enough, he sank two fingers inside her, pressing and preparing her body for his. The groans and whimpers that grew louder with each thrust implied that she was ready, so he withdrew and lined himself up again.

This time his tip made it in, and he searched Pyrrha’s eyes for approval. She nodded, and the rest began sliding in.

“Ow!” Pyrrha couldn’t hide it this time. 

Horror struck Jaune’s features. “Pyrrha, you’re hurting?”

She was. Her entrance stung as he pushed, having only ever accommodated a couple of fingers before – and they were considerably smaller than what it was designed to sheath. In fact, she was quite surprised of how tight a fit she was.

“Only a little. But it’s fine, really. Just keep going.”

He pushed again, but couldn’t go any further. Her body wouldn’t allow it, and her pained groans didn’t help.

“I-it’s fine, it’s only natural that it’ll hurt,” she reassured him through gritted teeth. “How far in are you?”

“Not even halfway.”

“Just push harder.”

He tried that, and it still hurt. She held onto him, pulling him closer, coaxing him deeper into her despite the pain. Yang had warned her about this, after all, drunk or not. She bit back the sting, telling him to keep going no matter what. Then he stopped, and the pain lessened.

“I’m all the way in,” he breathed in her ear.

“Good,” she sighed, relieved that there was no more to fit. He was bigger than she thought. “Here we go.”

He pulled his hips back, bringing half of his length out for now, then sank in again. Then he withdrew, and pushed again. Pull, push, pull, push. He tried gentle motions, hoping to keep it as painless as possible for Pyrrha. It felt great for him; her walls sliding around his member, enclosing them, sending bliss shooting down his shaft to the rest of his lower anatomy with each thrust. Now he understood what the fuss was all about.

For Pyrrha, it was not as enjoyable. Each movement hurt as her entrance stretched beyond familiar territory. She held Jaune close, her chin digging into his shoulder while she watched the ceiling. She would loosen in future, and then she would start enjoying this more, like a proper Mistralian girl. Yang had said that the first time was always the worst – with a boy. She ground her hips against him, hoping to counteract his irregular rhythm and push him in deeper and provide her with some pleasure. That proved too difficult so she rocked with him instead of against him, and found that to be the better option, anyway. It felt more natural and tender.

It was clear on both sides that the other was a beginner. While Pyrrha clung onto him for dear life and tried to grind with him, Jaune didn’t know exactly what he should be doing other than thrusting. He tried to keep it slow, for Pyrrha’s sake, but an irregular rhythm developed as his excitement caused him to speed up, then he’d remember and slow down. Some thrusts were powerful and some were minute as he tried to decide which were best suited for the situation. With Pyrrha’s hips forcefully pushing, it confused him as to what she wanted.

He breathed down her ear between pants, “Are…you…ok?”

She nodded against his head.

“Am…I…doing…ok?”

She nodded again, and she bucked harder. The pain was receding now, and she was actually starting to enjoy this more. Faint sparks of pleasure once again ignited where their bodies were joined.

_Joined._

She laughed down his ear, and her nails dug into his back. His movements quickened, stroking her rather than impaling her, and her view of the ceiling had become a blur as her body was rocked up and down the bed, mostly thanks to Jaune’s own strength. They were entwined and joined in a closer, more ultimate way than anyone could ever hope to achieve with them. It was clumsy and still quite painful and not at all like the movies and books portrayed, but it was still beautiful.

Before long, Jaune felt the familiar twinging between his legs. “Pyrrha, I’m gonna…” He didn’t have the chance to finish, as he interrupted himself with a loud, climaxing groan. With two more large thrusts, he spurted into her – or, the condom – and his moans gradually subsided. He flopped onto her, his arms and elbows exhausted from suspending him and withstanding those movements for so long.

“That was amazing!” he breathed, and held her close. “The best I’ve ever had.”

“Good,” Pyrrha hummed, and stroked his blond hair, matted with sweat. After a few moments, Jaune picked himself up to pull his softening member out of her. He slid the condom off and tied it at the ends, before examining it in curiosity. A frown pinched his forehead.

“Pyrrha, there’s blood on this.” He flopped down beside her to show her.

Pyrrha took the condom, and scrutinized it for herself. It felt odd, rubbery and wet from her own juices. The white liquid inside seemed to have all been captured, thank goodness. And dotted around the rubber, particularly closer to the knot, were flecks of blood.

“So there is,” she mumbled. “I’ll be honest, though it was my first time, I didn’t expect that.”

Though he felt bad for her, Jaune couldn’t help but take a moment to bask in masculine pride. So, he’d been quite big for her.

“I’ll loosen up,” she sighed, nonchalantly dropping the condom to the floor and snuggling up next to her boyfriend.

He drew his arms around her and kissed her forehead. 

“So…we, uh…we just had sex.”

Pyrrha giggled. “Yes, we did.”

“And it was amazing.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, for me anyway.” He propped himself up on one elbow to read her face. “What about you. I know you were hurting, and I’m really sorry.”

“Jaune, it’s fine. That’s meant to happen.”

In all honesty though, she was quite sore down there. But it was natural, it was all natural. She was just like any other girl, not some divine being above all that. She was normal, and it was great.

“Would you, uh…” He propped himself up on one elbow to blush down at her. “Would you like me to…give you yours?”

She smiled. “That would be nice. Just don’t be too explorative for the moment, please.”

So he kissed her, and one hand snaked under the covers, down her torso to her nethers. As directed by Pyrrha, he gently circled two fingers around her clit, pressing harder and rubbing faster as her breaths grew heavier and ragged whimpers clawed from her throat. She climaxed with a quiet moan and an accentuated dig of her nails into his shoulder.

They curled up together after that, wrapped in the bedcovers and their afterglow. Pyrrha traced lazy patterns along Jaune’s chest humming, a tuneless melody.

The next words just drifted out, but they were words that she had wanted to say for a long time but never found the right moment. This moment was as good as any, given how naturally they slipped out.

“I love you.”

Jaune’s heart lurched. Those words had only ever been reserved for him by close family. Now here was someone else who truly meant them, in a different light, but just as precious to hear.

So he gave her the response reserved only for such individuals.

“I love you too.”

Pyrrha held him closer, practically glowing with the touching declaration. After being convinced for so long that she was destined to be alone, Jaune had – finally – proven her otherwise.

Their arms locked, legs entwined, bodies pressed together, near-impossible to be wrenched away. Proof of their commitment and willingness to protect what they had, be it from the whole world or just angry peonies. They remained like that for some time, in their own little world, and hardly heard the distant bangs or saw the lurid flashes of the fireworks bursting over Vale like sparkling bouquets, as if the whole city were rejoicing for them.

__________________________________________________________  
I'm late again, I know. But I've been visiting family and I've been stressing about exam results which come out this week D:

Like how too many fics jump from first kiss to bedroom stuff, they also often glorify the "first time", and the characters enjoy it loads/have multiple orgasms/are sex gods etc (which I suppose is the general criteria for smut and stuff). So, naturally, I didn't go down that route.

And it's been confirmed that RWBY Vol 3 comes out in late autumn :D


	31. A Seventh Will Join Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang plans a night out in celebration of everything that has happened, Jaune and Ruby have a Peony-related incident in the library, and Pyrrha wonders how she'll tell her father about her having a boyfriend.

Nora simply could not contain her excitement. Surprisingly observant for a girl who babbled about sloths and pancakes and who was ‘together-together’, she’d understood Pyrrha’s cryptic texts perfectly. She squealed as the fireworks flung their lurid colours like paint to the sky’s black canvas, giggling to a reddened Ren how they could be a euphemism to Jaune... _that_ …with Pyrrha.

And then they returned to their dorm. Everything was modestly presented; Jaune and Pyrrha fully clothed in their pyjamas, snoozing in the same bed. Their clothes that had been discarded in the wildness of passion had been tidied away – or shoved under the bed to be dealt with in the morning. But they’d forgotten about the box of condoms left on the bookcase that doubled as Jaune and Nora’s nightstand. 

The box was open.

“I knew it! Another happening’s happened!” Nora cried gleefully, clapping her hands together in delight.

Ren’s pale features went scarlet for them. At least the used condom had been buried in one of the trashcans. 

Given Nora’s ecstasy for this rite of passage, it was hard for her not to keep it from team RWBY. Her excuse was that they deserved to know. After all, they had been valuable allies and implementers in the Jaune and Pyrrha mission and the Peony crusade.

So when Jaune and Pyrrha arrived for breakfast the next morning – having woken to find that Nora and Ren had already gone – they were greeted with a tense and expectant atmosphere.

Nora giggled and bounced on her seat. Ren pretended to focus on his cereal. Ruby looked at them with wide, confused yet curious eyes. Weiss’s sharp gaze penetrated them as she tried to read the faintest of clues. Blake’s amber eyes flitted between the couple and her book, embarrassed for them. And Yang wore a wide smirk.

_“Sooo,”_ the brawler said, her words deliberately drawled to add a note of slyness. “How were the fireworks last night?”

While Jaune expelled an involuntary, nervous laugh, Pyrrha feigned perfect innocence. Nonchalantly, she nibbled a piece of her toast, before calmly stating, “We did not go out to see them.”

“Of course,” Yang grinned. “Presumably, you two were making your own.”

Pyrrha’s toast fell back to her plate.

Blake murmured, “I knew we should have acted natural.”

“Come on! There’s no need to be embarrassed – about time, I say!”

Emerald eyes burned at her, but it was Jaune who said, “‘About time’?”

Yang continued, unfazed, “It took you long enough to get it together, and now that you’ve gone all the way, it seals the deal. You two are serious, and that’s great. All our hard work paid off.” She stroked her fist. “And my punches were worth it.”

Ruby perked up, a smile splitting her features. “Oh! We should celebrate.”

Jaune paled. “Celebrate our…progress?”

“In a manner of speaking. Besides, we never _did_ celebrate you two getting together in the first place. And after everything we did to make it possible – the Peony hijinks included – it’s about time.”

There was a decisive clap from Yang. “Girls night out.”

“Yang, no…” Blake murmured.

“Blake, yes. And Jaune and Ren can hit Vale on a guys’ night out.”

Pyrrha picked at her crust, using it to paint invisible patterns on her plate. “I suppose that would be nice. I don’t believe I’ve ever been on a “girls’ night out” before.”

“Pyr, in my capable hands, you’ll be wanting to go on one every night. You’ll be easier to please than Blake and Weiss, anyway.”

The heiress and the faunus kicked her under the table, a leg each, and Yang cursed.

“Besides,” she continued through gritted teeth. “I need to show Ruby a few things about nightclubs.”

The caped girl’s spoon landed with a clatter into her bowl, milk spraying onto her shirt. _“I’m_ going too?”

“She’s too young,” Weiss remarked.

“No she isn’t. I got into a nightclub when I was fourteen – through means of gentle persuasion.” There was a horrid series of crunches and pops as Yang cracked her knuckles. “She needs to learn how to take care of herself in there before she does it alone when she’s older.”

Ruby scowled. When, in her future, was she ever going to need to be in a nightclub? When would she ever _want_ to be there?

There was no debate. Yang’s decision was final. She was dragging all five girls with her to the clubs of Vale. She would alert Sun and leave it to him to organise something for the boys. At this, Jaune and Ren exchanged anxious looks. On the night before the Grimm attack on Vale last semester, their team had shown SSSN around the city. The latter group had expressed their desire to venture into the pounding clubs they sauntered past, but with an early start the next morning, JNPR – excluding Nora – refused to let them. No doubt, Sun would be all too eager to carry out Yang’s request.

 

Saturday was a day that Jaune normally didn’t like to waste through homework or studying, but today was an exception. The topic in History had just transitioned to the Great War, and each student had a paper to complete for Monday. Jaune had planned to complete it on Friday, but…well, he got distracted.

Sun had delightedly confirmed that he would indeed be taking Jaune and Ren out on the town that night, and his foresight having improved since his time at Beacon, Jaune knew that he wouldn’t want to be doing anything tomorrow besides sleeping. Therefore, the paper would be completed today, no matter what. First, he needed the book that would apparently render the paper near impossible if not used. From growing up with countless stories of the historical event, Jaune’s knowledge of it was impressive. But he wasn’t going to risk not having the book. He would do better in this unit. He would make everyone proud; Dr Oobleck, his team, team RWBY, his girlfriend, his mother…

Busily scouring a library bookcase, he supressed a curse. The book was, so far, near impossible to find, and almost an hour had been spent on him just searching for it. That wasn’t going to leave him with as much time as he would have liked to complete the paper, before he would have to get ready to go out. 

He kicked himself and the ladder along the shelf, whizzing a few metres along lines of books, before slowing to an eventual stop. When he still couldn’t find the book he needed, he pulled himself along the shelf, ladder and all, very slowly so that he could meticulously inspect every title. He needed this book. The Great War was his forte; he could well walk away with a B+ if he _just found that damned book!_

When he did find it, it was as though someone had removed several layers of armour. _The Great War: A Military Revolution_ shone at him like a dawn of printed gold letters on a withering fabric cover. 

_B+, here I come!_

He hugged the book to his chest, and was about to kick the ladder back down the aisle when he noticed a smudge of pink in the corner of his eye, and his heart plummeted.  
Peony had her back to him, at the very end of the aisle, engrossed in the pages of a book. And though she hadn’t noticed him, she was dangerously close.

Not wanting to provoke anything, Jaune immediately kicked against the shelf to send him and the ladder flying to the open end of the aisle – except that the ladder didn’t budge. Trying not to curse or mutter, he pushed with his right foot once again, but the wheels perched on the top of the ladder made faint, clunking sounds as they refused to rotate.

They’d chosen now of all times to get jammed.

Sighing quietly, Jaune did the next best thing – descend and walk away. That didn’t happen either. For one, the rung directly below him creaked. For another, Peony chose this moment to float aimlessly down the aisle to slot back her book, right opposite him. She selected another book, and read it where she stood. If Jaune were to descend now, there would be no hope of leaving unnoticed.

Gingerly, he raised up his left foot. There was only one thing for it. The above rung didn’t make a sound. His right foot lifted up to the next rung, soundless. He climbed up the ladder, one hand gripping the wood and the book in a tight lock of fingers. When he neared the top, he placed the book on top of the book case, before pulling himself up after it.

The view of the library from this point was pretty; shrunken students wandering or studying, the repetitive patrols of the librarians – employees and third year volunteers – and the ground floor far below. Peony read on beneath him, still none the wiser of his presence. That threw his theory of her having an in-built Jaune/Pyrrha radar system out of the window. 

From where he was, the only thing that wasn’t so pretty was the top of the bookcase itself. Dust covered it like first sprinklings of snow all those weeks ago. Evidently, every aspect of the library, whether it was accessible to students or not, was cleaned at some point. The mass cleaning probably occurred during spring break, so now a faint coating of white dusted the wood. Nevertheless, if Jaune were Ruby or Blake, he would be having a sneezing fit and thus give himself away.

Peony hadn’t moved at all aside from a few tosses of hair and flicks of pages. So there was nothing for it. Jaune Arc crawled on top of a book case, sliding along a volume of Great War military strategies in front. The act was agonisingly slow, so not as to make any noise. He didn’t dare check behind him at Peony, in fear of losing his balance and tumbling to the ground. His hands felt grubby and disgusting. He was sure his jeans were ruined. There was a tingling in his nose, but he resisted the urge to sneeze.

As he crawled, he checked the other side of the bookcase for any ladders. So far, no such luck. Glancing up now, there was one near the very end. Typical. 

The book slid along, pushed by his knees. He dared to increase his pace. His palms and knees ached, he was sure he was leaving a trail of swept-aside dust behind him, rather like a snail. And yet the ladder was still an age away.

“Jaune, what are you doing?”

He froze, though relief partially flooded back to him when recognition of the voice dawned on him. Partially. 

Down the aisle behind him, a book was snapped shut.

The voice had come from the other side, where the ladder sat, mockingly stationary. Jaune peered over, only slightly, to see Ruby gaping up at him.

“This is not something I ever expected to see,” she confessed.

“It’s not something I ever expected to do,” he hissed back. “Quickly, throw me the ladder!”

The urgency of his tone sparked her into action, and she brought the ladder rolling towards him. The wheels squeaked, but at least it was actually moving.

“Catch,” he said, and dropped the book over the edge. It landed heavily in Ruby’s arms, emitting an eruption of collected dust right into her face. The sneeze that followed was like an explosion in the deathly quiet library. A series of heels clicked towards them.

Panicked, Jaune swung his legs onto the ladder and clambered down at a speed which would have impressed Sun. Another sneeze burst from Ruby. Then another, and another.

The heels stalked behind the row of books.

Jaune thought quickly. He grabbed the book from Ruby, ushering a quick “thank you”, before shoving aside books in the next shelf, creating a gap wide enough to fit through. He disappeared through the bookshelf into the next aisle, where he repeated the procedure. That way, Peony would never see him racing out.

Clicks rounded the corner, and Peony glared at the sole occupant of this aisle – caped, she was wearing her re-stolen cape, the nerve of her! Ruby stared back at her with equal intensity, as she racked her brains at what to do.

“Tell me where Jaune is,” the flower girl demanded.

“Why?” Ruby responded coolly. “What do you want him for?”

She received a deadpan look, one that clearly said something along the lines of “I only ever want Jaune for one thing, you should know that by now”.

So Ruby altered her question with a defiant fold of her arms.

“Why should I tell you? You’ve annoyed him, disrespected his girlfriend, hit me, insulted everyone who breathes the same air as us…” Many of these were understatements. Peony was more than annoying and disrespectful and insulting. She made Cardin pale in comparison.

“Don’t play these games with me, Ruby,” Peony snapped. “I just saw Jaune crawling on top of a bookcase. I heard you two talking, and you sneezing. And now all of a sudden he’s disappeared – just like every other time. What, is his Semblance invisibility or something?”

While Ruby herself wasn’t entirely sure of what his Semblance was, she could honestly say that it had nothing to do with his evasiveness. Oblivious, idiotic fool as he could be, he had a sharp mind when it came to battle and espionage, a trait likely passed down to him from his war veteran great-great-grandfather.

While she was in the presence of the Doom Bloom, Ruby decided to try and make an emotional appeal to her. It would also delay her and give Jaune more time to escape.

“You really need to let this go, you know,” she said, voice losing its frosted tenseness to adopt a softer tone. “You can’t keep doing this with every boy you meet for the rest of your life.”

“I’ll only ever love _him,_ Ruby. He is all I can ever have. You’re too young to understand.”

“I don’t know what you Mistralians say, but over here, we say there’s “plenty of fish in the sea”.”

“I know. I’m Valean by birth. We’re a more romantic people than the passionate Mistralians – another reason why Jaune and I are so well-suited.”

Ruby tried not to snort. The only thing romantic about this was Jaune and Pyrrha’s own love story.

“Look, too many people have gotten hurt – me included.” She tried not to wretch with her next words, sugared as they were. “But you’re the person who has been hurt the most…”

_Yeah, right. Hurt more than Pyrrha. Sure._

“…and you’ll only hurt yourself even more from here on out…”

_Ha. As we all know, of course._

“…so with your best interests taken into consideration, I implore you to stop.” She clasped her hands like a desperate, praying child. “This really isn’t worth it.”

Her team couldn’t sway her. Professor Goodwitch’s orders had no effect on her. So a plight coming from the girl who had vomited on her and snuck into her dorm was no different.

Peony rolled her eyes with a groan. “It _will_ be well worth it in the end. And as for me being hurt, of course I am! I’m glad you agree that I’m the one who’s hurt the most…”

_BAHAHAHAHA!_ Ruby thought.

“…but ever heard the saying ‘no pain, no gain’?”

Ruby blinked. The only thing Peony was gaining was mass disapproval. Still, she tried to be reasonable. 

“Perhaps, in this instance, the pain really isn’t worth it. That saying doesn’t apply for everything, you know.” For what had she gained from her mother’s death? She would still be at Beacon, she was sure, and Yang would be as close to her as she was now, right?

At this, Peony scoffed, stamping her foot in frustration. “You know, out of everything, this is one of the most painful things: people not understanding! If _someone_ could just put themselves in my shoes, they would get it!”

No they wouldn’t. Ruby had tried, she really had. She gave up on trying to be sympathetic.

“How about you do the same: put _yourself_ in _someone else’s_ shoes?”

“I have. For instance, when I’m in Jaune’s shoes, he loves me to death and is desperately trying to get away from Pyrrha. And when I’m in _her_ shoes, she hates me and is jealous of me and wants to ruin everything I stand for.”

At that moment, Ruby decided that she would indeed be drinking tonight. She wanted to drown her despair at the crazy flower girl. It was the same moment that her scroll buzzed, alerting her to a text. She flicked it open, curling her hand around the back so that Peony couldn’t sneak a peek. It was a message from Yang outlining details for tonight, and was the perfect reason for her to leave the infuriating conversation.

She snapped the scroll shut and slotted it back into her denim skirt pocket. “I have to go now,” she said bluntly. “And I think you need to work on the whole shoes thing.”

She passed Peony, quickly, and rounded the corner at the top of the aisle with a sharp spin. Her scroll fell to the floor, making little noise against the carpet; she hadn’t returned it to her pocket properly. She continued on her way, oblivious.

Peony eyed the white object on the floor with keen interest. She bent down to pick it up, and flicked it open to find the message that Yang had sent. Her eyes widened in triumph at the secret information presented before her.

_Blake and I are at the store grabbing some stuff for pre-drinks. We’ll hit the town at 9 ish, starting at Junior’s club, I think – I’ll get you in easy ;) Cheap drinks too. Told Pyrrha and Nora to wear comfortable but sexy clothes, so same to you. Minus the sexy bit though…we’ll work on that when you hit 16. Sun’s taking the guys to the bars before they get to any clubs. We may see them! Love Yang xx_

Peony bit the inside of her cheek to stop her grin from looking too insane. So, the six girls were going out tonight – and a seventh would be joining them. She didn’t yet know what she would do exactly, but she would be there. She was still angry at Pyrrha, as ever. She resented Ruby for sneaking into her dorm and reclaiming the cloak, which meant that she still needed additional punishment for the vomit episode. She still detested Yang for the brutal attack, and for her punishment to only be double her own. The flower girl needed more justice in order to be wholly satisfied. How long and how much that would take was anyone’s guess.

She closed the scroll, and her voice rang out clear and pure at Ruby’s red, retreating back, “Ruby! You dropped your scroll!” 

The caped girl halted, checked her pockets, turned and stalked back up to her. She took the scroll – Peony would have called it a snatch – uttered a brusque thank you, and continued back the way she came.

Peony curled her lip. _What a rude little brat._

 

High up in the CCT, elevator doors opened to release the red-haired girl. When she stepped out, she allowed herself a moment to survey the area, like she often did. Bleeping computers blinked all around her, a few terminals occupied mostly by students. Though on the Beacon campus, there were some everyday citizens there too, seeing as the tower was constructed for the whole of Vale, not just academy residents.

Pyrrha couldn’t imagine ever working here, so sterile and full of machines. As a temporary environment, the CCT’s communications room was tolerable. Unlike the library, there were individual booths for one to talk in, and free headphones if needed. Plus the connection was much better here, according to her father. Otherwise, what was the point in having a CCT, if calls could be made elsewhere?

She glanced up at the clocks above her. The three swords, the crest of Mistral, glowed with the other three kingdoms’ arms, each with a rotating clock on top, displaying the different time zones. It would be just after ten in the evening in her home kingdom; just enough time to provide her father with the monthly video-call update.

The hologrammed receptionist pointed her in the direction of a booth, and there Pyrrha drew up a seat. She plugged the headphones into the designated portal before slotting the earpieces on. After a couple of moments and jazzy music to fill the interval as the call connected, her reflection in the screen disappeared. In its place was the face of a man toughened with scars from years of fighting, always set in a concentrating frown to the point where a deep crease had lined between his brows. His flame red beard was trimmed in the typical Coastal Mistralian style, ending in a subtle point.

She smiled. It was nice to see her father again.

“Hello, Dad,” she said.

“Pyrrha, my girl!” he greeted, a small smile pinching his lips. Normally a sombre man, especially since her mother’s death, and obsessed with her training and progress, the gesture was a show of genuine paternal love. “How have you been?”

“Good,” she responded, quickly, before she could think about it. She hadn’t been just ‘good’. She had been tormented, she had been humiliated, she had been the happiest she’d ever been, she had been naughty… “What about you?”

“I’m fine, as always. Had a few missions to keep things off my mind, but now I can finally get rid of the nagging thoughts for good: how goes your training? Is Beacon still an adequate facility?”

Pyrrha tried not to roll her eyes. “Yes, Dad. It’s fantastic. I’m top of the class in combat and one of the smartest First Years.” She failed to mention that Ren and Weiss were the ones who surpassed her. And that Geography was her main weakness. And one of the modules in Language Studies was almost a failure as it consisted solely of the languages of Vale, which she struggled with. Jaune had somewhat repaid her tutoring by helping her with Western Valean; it was the only language he had any kind of grasp at, thanks to a fluent grandmother.

“And my training is still regular,” she went on. “Thrice a week in the gym, jogging four times, daily sparring save Saturdays.”

Her father nodded I approval. “Very good. I’m expecting great things come the tournament. Not long now I hear, and delayed by _snow_ of all things.”

Pyrrha shrugged. “It’s a lot colder here, and the Atlesian winds have less to travel.”

“True. Now tell me more about your team. I’m always interested in that Jaune boy’s progress.”

Pyrrha had told him early on that Jaune “doesn’t seem to have had the same training as the rest of us”, though this was before she discovered the truth of his entry into Beacon. Since then, she had told her father that she was helping him, and that it benefitted her too as it was, essentially, training. It was brief excuse but her father was satisfied by it.

“He’s doing well,” she informed him. “Very well, actually. He has a lot of talent that simply hasn’t been awakened or addressed correctly.”

“And his role as leader?”

“Very devoted, very caring. He’s doing a much better job than I ever could.”

Mars nodded with a grunt, but he seemed to accept that. He had expressed his disappointment from the beginning over his daughter not being the leader of her team. He was a leader, as was his late wife, so naturally Pyrrha would be well suited.

What he didn’t know was that Pyrrha had always felt different, even before the teams were formed. She was a brilliant fighter, a good strategist, but that was it. Her strategies suited her and her alone – or whoever fought with similar weaponry, like Jaune. She didn’t know where to begin with Nora or Ren. And she could be supportive and offer advice, of course, but Jaune would do _anything_ for his team. The danger or questionability was invalid, just so long as it guaranteed their well-being.

Then a thought struck. How was she going to tell her father that she and Jaune were together? Acquiring boyfriends weren’t a thing Mars Nikos had encouraged his daughter to do. He had said that they would be a distraction – which in some ways was true, Pyrrha had been known to get caught off guard in class from whispering to Jaune, or dreamily gazing at him before they became a couple – but the main reason was paternal protectiveness. Yang and Ruby were all too familiar of it.

“Speaking of Jaune, then,” said Mars, and Pyrrha’s heart accelerated. “How are things with that other girl? What was her name…Petal? Petunia?”

“Peony.” Her shoulders sagged in relief. “She’s…still a pest.”

That was all her father knew of the matter. That a girl from Haven called Peony had been annoying her an awful lot lately. If he knew the whole situation and how upset she had been, he would fly over to Vale and drag his daughter back home to Mistral without a moment’s notice.

Bushy red eyebrows raised. “What’s she done now?”

Realising how many other students were there, practically all of whom knowing about the notorious Bloom girl, Pyrrha decided to play it safe with her complaints. She didn’t want gossip to spread, and she wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw Poppy pass by out of the corner of her eye. So she spoke in Coastal Mistralian.

_“Well, she locked me in a cupboard which wasn’t too nice, but my friends got me out. She locked Jaune and Weiss in the dungeons of Fort Castle – at least, we think it was her. She…wasn’t particularly nice to Ruby at one point so Yang dealt with her thereafter.”_

She wasn’t completely fluent in the language – around seventy-five percent, she had claimed – but she knew that normally she was better than this. She stumbled on her words a bit, forgot what ‘cupboard’ was, and her accent was a little off. But she was comprehensible, as her father’s response in the same language proved.

_“What a pesky brat. I hope she soon realises the childishness of her actions. Nothing you can’t handle though, you’re a strong girl.”_

Pyrrha bit her lip glumly. She wasn’t. She had cried.

_“And your friends are there with you. I’m somewhat glad that this is happening. It’s proving to me that your transition to Vale was worthwhile. You went because you felt that you were too well-known and idolised in Mistral to form meaningful relationships. I’ll admit, even I could see that you could be a little socially awkward. Very naïve and overly trusting, and constant apologies…”_

She blinked. _Thanks, Dad…_

_“But you’ve grown, you’re wiser, and these antics with Peony are perhaps teaching you how to deal with unpleasant individuals, for you will encounter many more of these in your lifetime. I dare say, you may have found out who your truest friends are.”_

She cracked a smile. _“Oh, I have. All seven of them, they’re all great.”_

_“Good.” It was his turn to smile now. It was wider than before, and his eyes almost creased at the corners. “I must say, I can only see you through a screen, but you do look happier. There’s a certain glow about you that I haven’t seen since your mother was around. Or maybe it isn’t quite the same glow…I do not know. My point is, though I wanted you to stay in Mistral, I am glad you went to Vale. You’re my daughter, my only child, and though I want you to excel, I also want you to be happy. This is the first time in years that I’ve seen both.”_

Pyrrha expelled a gratified sigh that almost became a sob. “Oh, Dad, you’re making me want to cry!” She now spoke in the universal language of Remnant, too sentimental to think about speaking in a different tongue. For her father to be expressing such things was a rare feat. He was normally gruff and overly earnest, with a hard and thick exterior.

He responded in the same language, “How like your mother you can be. Speaking of which, I trust you’re keeping her coronet safe?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” She wasn’t wearing it at the moment, and her thoughts immediately snapped back to the frozen lake episode. She wouldn’t tell her father about that, not ever.  
The conversation drifted to more trivial matters, such as the news, the weather, family gossip, Pyrrha’s school assignments, Mars’s own missions. She hadn’t paid attention to the small timer in the corner of the screen, and gaped at it when it flashed red, indicating that they had five minutes left. How had the time gone so quickly?

She told her father that it was time to go, and he nodded in stiff response.

“Very well then. It’s good to speak with you but it would be better to cross over to Vale in time for the tournament and speak to you in person. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you fight and I want to evaluate for myself that you’re still on the right track.”

Pyrrha swallowed. “Ok.” It wasn’t his critical analysis of her skills that she was worried about; she was fairly confident that she wasn’t lacking in any way, but he could pick out the smallest and most insignificant details. Perfection was the only option with him. No, what she was most worried about was him finding out about her and Jaune. She didn’t have the courage to do it now…

_A Nikos is brave, a Nikos is not cowardly._

…but she needed more time to think about how to deliver the news. She would tell him of their being a couple, and that was that. Gods forbid he find out about their deflowering the previous night.

“Hope to see you there, then,” she added, masking her moment of discomfort. “Goodbye for now.”

“Goodbye, and goodnight from where I am.”

She was about to hang up, but something made her stop. That something also made her say, “I miss you.”

There was a flicker of warmth across Mars’s face, softening his features a fleeting moment. “I miss you too, cherub,” he replied, including the common Mistralian term of endearment. “Stay strong.”

“I will. Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodbye.”

She pressed the red button, and her father’s face faded into the blackening screen. Her reflection stared back at her, and she was surprised by its sombreness. She knew that she could get a little homesick, but her expression confirmed that this was the worst it had been. She blamed Peony.

She removed the headphones and left, brightening up a little as she exited the tower. Perhaps it was Peony, combined with the sterility of the bleeping, lifeless machines. 

Her scroll beeped, there was a message from Yang outlining the details for tonight. All thoughts of flower girls and computers dispersed as she smiled at the plans. She had never been on a girls’ night out, and, though uncertain to begin with, she was looking forward to it.

Little did she know, as was Peony Bloom.

 

 

____________________________________________  
And, the hiatus is over. Sorry I've been gone for so long, I've moved right across the country to university, had freshers' week, started working for my course etc. I also just needed a break from writing while all this was happening, but it feels good to get back into it.

So a few notes on this one: 

I have stated before that I believe the kingdoms are divided up to represent different countries, if you will, so Western Vale is 'France', Coastal Mistral is 'Greece' etc. Therefore, it would only be natural that many of those regions residents can speak the native language, fluently or enough converse. And then 'English' is the universal language of Remnant, whatever that may be called.

Another stereotype I've thrown in: Valeans are romantic (like the French) and Mistralians are passionate (like the nymphs and other virile creatures/deities in Ancient Greek myth).

Pyrrha's father, Mars Nikos, was inspired a little by Leonidas from _300_. Particularly the beard. Also, a lot of fics portray him or both parents where the mother is still alive as stern and domineering and show little love and are only ever interested in her being a perfect warrior. While I can see why they'd think that, if she were truly raised that way, I think Pyrrha would have turned out a little more like Weiss; cold and stern like them. She very easily shows appreciation and affection and warmth, so her parents obviously can't be all that bad. My imagining of it was that her mother somewhat doted on her, while her father tried to forge the best fighter possible, but does still show some love towards his daughter.

Ramblings aside, hopefully I'll update a bit more regularly now. Can't promise much, but one thing is for certain: I will NOT leave this story unfinished! I'm enjoying it too much!


	32. And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the girls predrink in preparation for the night, Yang comes up with the amazing idea that they should play a drinking game with a certain erotic fanfic...

As much as Blake had tried to limit their spending, she and Yang returned to Beacon with, as Weiss remarked, “enough alcohol to get an android drunk”. Yang protested that since five – maybe six, considering Ruby – would be drinking, they would have just enough.

“Just enough?” Weiss echoed as she gaped at the collection of bottles arranged on the floor. She counted: a box of twelve beers, six four-packs of cider, two litre bottles of vodka… Her eyes widened. _Two_ bottles of vodka? And Atlesian Prime, no less!

“Yeah,” said Yang with a shrug. “I’m quite the heavyweight.”

“I’m scared,” Blake mumbled. “At Coco’s party, Ruby vomited, Nora and Pyrrha made some sort of concoction out of things they found in the back yard, Pyrrha _drank_ it…”

“Hence why we didn’t get any Dionysian wine.”

“And yet you still bought vodka,” Weiss sighed.

Pyrrha herself expressed her surprise at the amount of alcohol when she and Nora entered team RWBY’s dorm.

“Are we going to be drinking _all_ of that?” 

Yang grinned. “We can try.”

While Pyrrha looked with uncertainty at the bottles, Nora’s eyes dazzled. 

“This is going to be so much greater than that party!” she cheered.

“But we can’t get too drunk,” Pyrrha went on. “Otherwise they won’t let us into the clubs, right?”

Yang blew across her knuckles. “Oh, they will. Drunk or not.”

“Well, alcohol aside, are we at least dressed appropriately?” The redhead beckoned to her and Nora’s outfits. The former had slipped on a silky red and gold top and black jeans, while the latter donned a lacy pink skirt and a T shirt with a sloth printed on the front. Both were strapped in modest heels.

Yang expressed her opinion bluntly. “No.”

The two girls exchanged shocked looks. 

“But it’s comfortable!” Nora whined.

“And reasonably…” Pyrrha didn’t like the word ‘sexy’. It felt odd to say it. “…appealing.” 

But Yang shook her blonde curls. “Nora, that shirt has to go. Pyrrha, wear a skirt, it’ll be really hot in the clubs. And don’t give me that “I’m Mistralian, therefore I’ll be fine” look – yeah, that. You know what, screw it, I’m going with you.” 

Ignoring the protests of the two girls, Yang ushered them out and back into their dorm, closing the door behind them with a decisive bang.

While Blake and Ruby stared after them, Weiss shrugged. 

“Well, she _did_ have a point.” She sat down on her bed, drawing her feet back. As she did so, one stiletto heel clinked against something beneath the bed. Something that sounded oddly like glass. Intrigued, the heiress slipped off to crouch by the bed and investigate. After a moment of fumbling around, her hand finally met something smooth and cold. When she drew it out, her brows pinched into a dumbfounded frown.

“What on Remnant is this?”

It was a jar, filled with long, golden-orange fruits – if that’s what they were. She span the jar in her hand to read the label.

_Vacuan sun tear chillies._

Her diamond eyes immediately drew up to Ruby, who stared at them, transfixed and red-faced.

Weiss kept her tone cool and level. “Ruby, why are there chillies under my bed?”

“Uhh, well…” In moments of bashfulness, Ruby tended to grasp the hem of her cloak and wrap it tighter around her body. On this occasion, her fingers found nothing; Yang had insisted that hoods and capes were not ideal clubbing attire. Instead, she gripped the hem of her shirt and stared at the floor.

“R-remember when I threw a bucket of water over Peony…?”

Blake turned sharply, the memory practically slapping her in the face. “You mean the water you threw over _me_ to drench Peony – after you contaminated my food with chilli?”

“Yeah, that…”

Amber eyes burning, Blake stalked up to the jar to inspect it. Her glare sliced back up at her team leader. “Why do you still have them?”

“In case I needed them again. I wondered if I could sneak one into Peony’s food – that would be funny.” She chuckled to herself. “She’d be so overdramatic and scream the hall down.” Or club… No, Peony hadn’t seen the text from Yang, she couldn’t have! The scroll had been closed properly when Ruby stuffed it into her pocket, right? ...Right?

“Well, they _are_ hot!” Blake spoke from experience.

“Anyway, you are _not_ using them,” Weiss insisted, an authoritative note aloft in her voice. “They’re much too dangerous, especially in your hands. We could donate them to Sun or someone. He’s Vacuan…”

An extra voice joined in with their conversation, male and mischievous – and muffled behind a pane of glass. “Did somebody say ‘Sun’?”

The girls squealed and span to face the window, where an upside-down Sun graced them with an upside-down grin. Noting their shocked expressions, he added, “Tree climber, remember?”

“Just how long have you been there?” Weiss snapped.

“Not that long. All the same, can you let me in?”

Weiss was about to refuse and order him to use the proper entrance, but Blake unlatched the window to let the monkey faunus swing himself inside. His grey gaze immediately fell upon the impressive collection of alcohol.

Catching his line of sight, Blake immediately explained with one word: “Yang.”

His grinned only grew. “I like her style.”

Weiss scoffed. “I can only assume that you’ve failed to notice the two huge bottles of _Atlesian Prime Vodka!”_

Sun shook his head. “Nah, you assume wrong. You girls clearly aren’t very experienced in this sort of thing. That there is plenty for all six of you.”

“I’ll say,” the Ice Queen muttered.

“‘Plenty’ as in the perfect amount. I don’t know what you Atlesians are used to, but we Vacuans predrink without the ‘pre’. As do Mistralians, so I’ve discovered.”

“From one stereotype to another – have these.” She thrust the jar into Sun’s face, who only raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Woah, the Ice Queen is giving me a present?”

Weiss threw him an icicle look. “Don’t think I’m being generous. We needed to get rid of them before Ruby does something else stupid.”

 _“Weeiiiisss!”_ Ruby whined.

Sun accepted the gift, and smirked at its contents. “Vacuan sun tear chillies, eh? Like the ones you fed to Blake, am I right, Ruby?”

While Ruby’s face lit up at the faunus’s mischievous admiration, Weiss continued her rant. “Unbelievably stupid, wasn’t it? The trouble we got into wasn’t _that_ worth it. Poor Blake had her mouth burned to a crisp. Therefore, as a team, we refuse to endure their presence any longer.”

Ruby looked at her. “As a team?”

“As such,” Weiss went on, “you may have them. Do what you will with them: eat them, burn them, have a chilli fight, I don’t care just so long as it has nothing to do with us.”

Sun stroked his chin in momentary thought, before his grey eyes widened as an idea struck. “Gotcha. Make chilli and vodka shots. It’ll be like tabasco shots, but really, really lethal.”

Weiss rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Fine. Whatever. Now, leave.” She flung the door open and pointed insistently at the open corridor.

Shrugging, Sun tossed the jar in one hand and left, adding a cheery, “Looking good, ladies.” He winked at Blake as he passed by. Evidently, he had initially arrived to collect Jaune and Ren, as he rapped his knuckles on their door. But, as was customary in Vacuo, didn’t wait for permission to enter. He opened the door, caught a glimpse of Pyrrha’s long, bare legs before Yang jumped in to shield the sight with her body. 

“WHAT THE HELL, SUN?? CLOSE THE DOOR!!”

Sun whammed it shut. Pyrrha could be heard moaning about him seeing her underwear. Then there was Jaune’s voice, assuring her that he was sure that wasn’t the case, and that if he made a big deal out of it, he would show him the wrath of Arc.

At this, Sun raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t at what Jaune had said, it was more that he was in the room...watching Pyrrha change…? Maybe he wasn’t actively watching, he was too chivalrous to do that, especially with other people in there. But…damn, to have permission to be in the same room while a girl changes… Jaune would, of course, with Pyrrha being his girlfriend and the two now being physical, but it was still a great privilege. 

But what about Ren and Nora? Were they in there too…watching?

Deciding he was thinking too deeply about this, Sun returned to RWBY’s dorm and tried to make light conversation with Blake. He pretended to be interested in books, for her.

JNPR’s door was reopened a short while after, and out emerged Pyrrha and Nora, ushered ahead by Yang. 

Weiss nodded at the first two girls in approval. “Much better.”

“I know right?” Yang grinned.

Pyrrha now donned a brown skirt with tights, and Nora’s sloth T-shirt was replaced by pretty, light pink top that accentuated her chest. It was this last attribute which made Weiss particularly self-conscious. Her arms rose to cover her own chest, near flat in comparison.

“Yang?” she said, her cheeks darkening to spots of blood on snowy skin. “Do…do you think you could improve my outfit too?”

“What? But your outfit’s fine!” Yang beckoned to the heiress’s choice of attire: a white, strappy minidress made of a light, floating material that glided with each movement like her own fleet of snowflakes. The stitching where the skirt began ran right under her bosom, showing its shape to some degree. But Weiss now wished she had worn something to hide what she lacked, especially with much _luckier_ girls for company. Even Ruby had a slightly better chest, and she was only fifteen.

Not wanting to stick around for a girly conversation about clothes, Sun bid them a good evening before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Once again, he tried JNPR’s door. This time, he waited after knocking.

It was Ren who answered, and upon seeing the grinning faunus, tried not to release a sigh of reluctance. Clubbing didn’t sound very appealing.

“You guys ready to party?” said Sun.

“As we’ll ever be,” Ren mumbled, before stepping out into the corridor. Jaune followed momentarily after.

“Glad to see you’ve learned about waiting after knocking,” the blond boy remarked as he closed the door behind them.

“Look, man, I’m _sorry!_ All I saw were a bit of Pyrrha’s legs, so it’s no big deal.”

“Apology accepted. Just please don’t do that in future. No one likes to be walked in on.”

 _“In more ways than one,”_ Sun finished with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Jaune clamped his mouth shut as red coloured his features. They rounded the corner and began the descent down the stairs, where Sun deemed it safe to carry on the suggestively themed conversation.

“So how come you were both watching her get changed?” He meant it as a joke, but rather than laughter, he received two astounded glares.

“For your information,” said Ren, “I had my back turned. I would have gone in the closet but both were being scoured by Yang. And Jaune and I were involved in a good conversation.”

“And I wasn’t _actively_ watching!” Jaune added. “I’m not a creep.”

Sun shrugged. “Well as her boyfriend, you have privileges. Since you’ve now seen her naked and stuff – _ow!”_

He clutched the back of his head, where Jaune had just smacked him. Clearly, the boy had twigged on why Sun had started such a conversation – to pry into his love life.

“Hey, remember, this is what we’re celebrating, Jaune!” the monkey faunus protested, dropping his hand from his spiky hair. “It was about time you got laid. And had a guys’ night out. As an apology your first drink is on me. Ren too.”

Jaune expelled an exasperated sigh. “Fine.” He supposed he ought to try and enjoy tonight. He’d never had so many friends before, and finally had more male ones. It was just the boisterous, testosterone-fuelled nature of team SSSN that worried him. Ren as well, obviously. It would be like hitting the town with four Yangs.

 

The girls sat in a circle on the floor, much like when they had played ‘Spin the Bottle’ all that time ago. Pyrrha gave a short laugh, marvelling at how the time had flown. That had been mere days after first meeting Peony. It was when it was confirmed to team RWBY her feelings for Jaune. Now they were back here, celebrating a successful match-making and her and Jaune’s “progress”.

She took the first swig of her cider without much hesitation. That was what they had all started on, aside from Yang’s beer. Ruby was permitted to have only one bottle for the entire predrinking session. The vodka and a range of shot glasses stood in the middle of their circle, ominous and foreboding.

Yang proceeded to begin something she had been particularly looking forward to. “So, we’re going to start tonight with something awesome and hilarious. Blake and I came up with it earlier while we were booze shopping.”

 _“I_ had nothing to do with this,” Blake retorted. “I happened to mention it – in a completely different context – and she thought it would be a great idea for tonight.”

“Because it _is_. Weiss, your laptop if you will.”

Reluctantly, the heiress retrieved it from her bed and handed it to the brawler. Once booted up, Yang opened up the search engine – incognito.

“Incognito?” Suspicion rose in Weiss’s voice. “Just what exactly are you searching?”

It was soon answered. Yang typed in three words, and the Ice Queen gasped and ordered her to stop this instance. She was ignored. Yang clicked on the first result, and grinned as the website opened up. 

She had typed in “midnight erotic fanfiction”.

They were now on fanficlovers.rem.

The fanfic that Yang wanted was one of the _Midnight Saga,_ and had several warnings – explicit sexual content, vampire sex, rough sex, first time, anal sex…

Weiss threw a disgusted screech. “JUST WHY HAVE YOU SEARCHED THAT ON _MY_ LAPTOP?!”

Yang’s grin was sardonic and, almost, evil. “With over fifty-thousand views, this is one of the most popular – and notorious – fanfics of all time. I presume you’re all aware of the _Midnight Saga?”_

Three girls nodded. Weiss just continued to glare at her. Blake admitted to have read the books when she was younger – and since learned the error of her ways. The _Midnight Saga_ had put supernatural romance on the literary map – even though its written quality was pretty terrible. Its popularity was all thanks to masses of teenage girls gushing over the handsome vampires and the loved-up heroine. Then the movies came out, complete with Remnant’s hottest actors, sparking even more popularity amongst deranged tweens and teens. Since then, Blake had despaired how there were much more deserving books out there that needed movie adaptations.

“What we have here,” Yang went on, “is _Master of the Night,_ an erotic _Midnight_ fanfic – because obviously someone decided that the one brief love scene wasn’t enough and decided to crap out a load of them.”

“Why is this particular one ‘notorious’?” Pyrrha asked.

Blake answered for her, face reddening in shame. “Its quality is even worse than the original book…and it involves BDSM…like, a lot of it.”

While Weiss scoffed in disgust, and Pyrrha and Nora raised their eyebrows in surprise – and very, very mild interest – Ruby’s brows knitted into a puzzled frown.

“What’s BDSM?”

“You’ll find out, sis,” Yang grinned. “It’s about time you started learning these things. Now, what we’re going to do is read it – out loud. We’ll take it in turns, chapter by chapter. Every time something even remotely sexual is found, the person reading it takes a shot of the good old Atlesian stuff – except Ruby. She’s sticking to cider. Everyone ready?”

Everyone shook their heads, except Nora, who nodded eagerly.

Yang smirked. “Then let’s begin.”

The initial beginning of the fanfic wasn’t too bad, explicit-wise. Yang read it clearly, imitating the voices for each character, enticing laughter all around the circle, Weiss included. The first shot of vodka was taken by her, at the end of chapter one.

 _“As she leaves, Christopher thinks to himself…”_ Yang paused for dramatic effect, grin smearing across her face, before impersonating a deep, sultry voice, _“‘I’d like to bite that lip.’”_

She, Nora and Pyrrha burst into hoots of laughter, while Blake and Weiss giggled with them. Ruby looked more alarmed than confused.

“That sounds _gross!_ What is he, a cannibal?”

“It refers to a hardcore make-out session,” Yang chuckled, before reaching for the vodka and one of the tiny glasses. A shot was poured, then downed. The horrid, fiery taste stampeded down her throat, and she released a determined roar to keep it down. She shook her golden curls. “Man, that stuff is brutal.”

The laptop was passed to a hesitant Blake, and for a while, it seemed as if she would get away without taking a shot. Then, much to her dismay, in the penultimate paragraph, one of the characters mentioned the word ‘sex’ – which, according to Yang, counted as a shot. The vodka was poured, and Blake sniffed it at first. She winced at the disgusting odour, and pinched her nose as she tipped it into her mouth. She clamped her hand over lips just to force it down, and as the burning sensation ripped down to her stomach, her eyes watered at the foul taste.

“This is a stupid idea,” she breathed, her voice no more than a squeak. “It’s worse than the chillies.” 

Nonetheless, Weiss accepted her turn, had the torture of taking two shots as BDSM references came to light – which Ruby still didn’t understand. Even so, Weiss handled them considerably better than the other two, only grimacing each time. She reminded her awed friends that she had drunk this before, after stealing her father’s bottle once upon a time.

Next up was Nora. She read her chapter with hilariously exaggerated voices, and narrated it in her version of an epic movie voice. Yang remarked that she made the main male character, sex-god Christopher Black, sound like a cross between a transvestite porn-star and a pervert. There were two kiss scenes and one instance of a hand crawling up a thigh, so three shots were taken. Nora shuddered at the taste, her face twisting into an ugly grimace before washing each one down with some much sweeter cider.

Things got even more heated during Pyrrha’s round. Somehow, fate ensured that she would read the first sex scene…or first couple, as this chapter turned out to contain. Shot number one was downed when the female protagonist, soon-to-be sex-goddess Annabelle Cole, admitted to Christopher Black that she was still a virgin. Groaning, Pyrrha accepted the glass of water-like liquid, and tipped it down. Having never tasted pure vodka before, she let out a squeal before spitting it back into the shot glass. Her mouth blazed with sickly, alcoholic fire.

“Swallow it, Pyrrha!” Yang urged. “Don’t spit, swallow! Don’t spit, swallow! Imagine Jaune saying that!”

“Screw you,” Pyrrha grumbled, before retaking the shot. This time it was successfully swallowed, and still just as awful. 

She knew her second shot was imminent even before she read it aloud. She paused mid-sentence, skimmed the paragraph ahead, and said, _“Ohhh no…”_

“C’mon, Pyr!” Nora laughed, vodka now claiming her head. “Read the sexy, naughty scenes.”

The Mistralian didn’t even finish the sentence. She cleared her throat, and began. Nervous laughter bubbled in her throat as she read how the two characters proceeded to make out and undress each other. _“He rips the clasp apart, wrenching her bra away and letting it fall to the floor. He…”_ She took a moment to snigger at the next line. _“…covers her nipples with his hands and mouth, enticing yet more desirous groans from her… His…his tongue glides over one breast, and then the other, elon…elongating her…”_ She giggled, mostly out of shyness, and partly due to the alcohol. 

Nora leaned over, reading ahead, and a wicked grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Guys, it gets much worse!”

Biting down her laughter, Pyrrha read the next few lines. They detailed how Christopher paid very eager attention to Annabelle’s breasts, and how hot and horny and wet she was becoming.

 _“As he pinches her nipples, an electrical passion shoots down to her groin. A pressure grows inside her, swelling, ready to burst…”_ She bit her lip to smother her giggles, then continued, her voice strained from the resistance. _“His teeth clamps around one nipple, thumb and forefinger pinching the other – hard. The pressure explodes and she comes with an ecstatic cry…!”_

Unable to contain themselves, the group roared with laughter. Nora laughed so hard, she flung herself back and rolled on the floor. Blake smothered her face with her hands in a vain attempt to hide the hilarity of what they’d just heard. Tears streamed down Weiss’s cheeks. Ruby giggled, but remained the most confused.

“So…she, you know, climaxed…from him just touching her chest?”

“Yes,” Blake confirmed between giggles. “That’s what makes it so ridiculous!”

“Uh-huh.” Ruby nodded, understanding somewhat. “Yeah, because while I know that being touched on the chest is meant to feel good and stuff, that alone can’t make you climax. It’s impossible!”

At this, Yang shook her head. “No, it _is_ possible. Just very uncommon. And given that this girl’s a virgin and never had an orgasm before, I’d say that in this instance, it’s pretty much impossible. Anyways, Pyrrha! Take your shot like you mean it!”

The shot was taken, with more confidence than the first but the taller girl still didn’t hide her disgust. She briefly read on, before coming to an abrupt stop.

“Oh no…”

Nora read over her shoulder. “Ooo, they’re about to do the deed for real!”

Her third shot was unavoidable. Sighing, Pyrrha continued. 

Being the unrealistic and insatiable virgin, Annabelle’s sexual desires were apparently still unsatisfied. After a few sentences involving a lot of touching in certain places and clumsily worded metaphors, enticing more laughter from the girls, Pyrrha came across the worst phrase of the lot.

 _“He strokes his tip against her…”_ She stopped, unable to comprehend the next words. _“Her saturated sex flower…?”_

They exploded in unison. Never had the laughter been so loud. Their sides split and ached, and tears streamed, but they couldn’t stop. Again, Nora rolled on the floor, and Ruby joined her. Blake became overcome with hiccups.

“OH MY GOD!” Yang yelled between gasps for air and laughs. “HER SATURATED SEX FLOWER! AHAHAHAHAAAAH! WHAT A MASTERPIECE!” 

It took considerable longer for them to settle down, and even when they did, giggles and chuckles remained. They amplified the more Pyrrha read. Her voice cracked and wavered as Christopher ‘slammed’ into his lover, a rough round of sex ensuing. Each movement, each sound, each feeling, described in graphic and poorly-worded detail. The virgin Annabelle apparently suffered no pain whatsoever, despite it being her first time having _anything_ in there.

 _“They groan and moan with each thrust…_ Oh dear lord. _Her juices drench his entire length, right up to his..._ What the actual…?” She let out an explosive snort, drawing more laughter from the others. “Brace yourselves, everyone. _Right up to his balls, where the hot liquid dribbles down between his thighs and drips onto the sheets.”_

“WHAT?” Yang howled, her face scarlet and chest heaving.

“Ew, she peed during sex?” Ruby wailed.

Gasping for air, Pyrrha waded through the sex scene. It finally ended with Annabelle orgasming so hard that her juices squirted all down Christopher’s thighs, between her buttocks and drenching the bed sheets right down to the mattress and maybe even further. Christopher himself came immediately after with “four forceful shoves”, the best he’d ever had – and he’d had a lot. The red-faced redhead couldn’t make it to the end of chapter without sounding incomprehensible, as her speech was staggered and slurred while she tried to control her erratic laughs. She took her third and final shot, still laughing.

At last, it was Ruby’s turn. As soon as she saw the beginning of her chapter, she knew it would be just as bad, if not worse. Thank goodness she would only be taking her untouched cider.

She sighed, and began.

_“‘I want to do all that again,’ Annabelle says.”_

“Stop, sis.” Yang waggled an authoritative finger. “Remember, you’ve gotta sound the part. We want to hear Annabelle say those things, not our under-aged Ruby.”

Moaning, Ruby restarted by adding a somewhat adult smoothness to her voice – and a girly lisp.

_“‘I wanna do all that agaaaiiin’.”_

“Much better. Keep going.”

It wasn’t long before _another_ graphic scene ensued. It was at that moment when Pyrrha offered some insightful critique.

“I would just like confirm that this scene takes place immediately after their first one, yes?”

The others nodded.

“Well, really, it should be impossible. This is an unrealistic representation of that part of the male anatomy. While I understand women can sometimes keep on going, don't men need a little more time before another erection?”

“It’s because it’s bad writing and the author didn’t think of that,” said Blake.

Yang’s lilac eyes gleamed at her Mistralian friend. She knew that her tongue would likely be loosened up by the vodka by now. “How do you know that, Pyr?”

Pyrrha looked her dead in the eyes, and smirked. “I speak from experience.” Then her face flushed as soon as the words left her mouth. Her hands clamped over her blazing cheeks, and she hastily added, “Just ask Jaune, I’m sure he could give you some insight – on the male anatomy, not our antics…Oh dear gods.” She cast the triumphant Yang a green-eyed glare. “I am not having any more vodka.”

“Oh, yes you are.”

“I really hate you sometimes.”

“Ruby, keep reading before Pyrrha reveals all the juicy details on her and Jaune’s sex life!”

_“Yang!”_

Ruby was quick to respond, reading slowly, hesitantly, looking around the group for support. It took her some words of encouragement before she could read the act itself. Though she did have one condition.

“Is it alright if I replace certain words with alternatives?”

Yang stroked her chin. “Hmm…that sounds pretty good actually. All I ask is you make them interesting.”

“Ok.” Steeling her gaze on the words before her, Ruby took a deep breath. _“He teases her with his fingers, gliding up and down her…_ Ahem, ‘downstairs department’.”

Her sister nodded in approval. “Nice, keep going.”

Ruby obeyed, replacing the ruder words with substitutes, sometimes allowing a little creativity. Laughter followed her words like yapping dogs.

 _“She begs for him to get on with it, so he flips her over, presenting to him her ample_ …behind… _and presses his_ – thing – _against her flesh_ … Ew. _He pushes, penetrating her completely, filling her_ – special woman place – _and rocks against her ass_ – no, sorry, her behind. _He thrusts, hard, his_ – rod – _creating so much friction that each movement is accompanied by a defined yet erotic…squelch.”_

This was followed by a collective, _“Ewww!”_

Ruby swallowed, her cheeks reddening as more of her innocence was sheared away. _“‘Harder,’ she yells, and he increases the pace, fu_ – uhh, having his way with her – _so hard that they bounce off the bed and the springs sing beneath them. She_ – lets it go – _with an almighty roar, her_ – hind quarters – _splattered with her dribbling_ – lady juice. _With a wholly satisfied groan, he_ – releases the kraken – _inside of her.”_

The last one resulted in a particularly huge burst of laughter. For the third time, Nora was on the floor, pulling Pyrrha down with her. Weiss’s makeup was ruined thanks to another bought of hysterics.

“HE _WHAT?”_ Yang cried. “‘RELEASES THE KRAKEN’? OH MY GOD, RU, YOU’RE AMAZING!”

Dumbfounded, but proud of her clever wording's reception, Ruby took four large gulps of her cider, a reward rather than the punishment of vodka. Still chuckling, the laptop was passed back to Yang.

Skimming through her next chapter, Yang was disappointed to find that all it would contain was dialogue. It involved heavy sexual references, but it wasn’t as interesting anymore.

“Ahh, fuck it. Let’s find some BDSM,” she said, clicking on the contents list. _Chapter Seven: You’re a Bad Girl_ sounded promising. That was confirmed when she began to read, slurred and drunkenly exaggerated, but comprehensible.

She lowered her voice to an exaggerated growl. _“‘You’ve been a very bad girl, Annabelle Cole,’ says Christopher as he circles the bare-naked woman, trailing the crop against her chest and back.”_ Her beam widened. “Ok, girls, here we go. _‘Bend over, placing your elbows on the bed.’”_

Ruby’s eyes widened. “Is he going to whip her?” she gasped.

Yang soon answered her question. Christopher smacked Annabelle, with the riding crop, across the buttocks. Three times. She groaned through it, only partly through pain. She was also aroused by it.

Weiss scoffed. “How can whipping someone arouse them? It’s painful!”

“She’s a masochist,” Blake explained, bluntly. “Her own pain turns her on, so long as it’s inflicted by him.”

“Why do I feel like you’ve read this before?”

The cat faunus took a long swig of cider.

Christopher then proceeded to handcuff each of Annabelle’s limbs to the four bedposts, and engage in more rough sex with her conscious but mostly immobile body. She wasn’t allowed to climax. He pulled out just in time to ejaculate all over her face and body.

 _“EWWWW!”_ the rest of the group practically screamed.

Yang rolled her eyes. “Innocents, the lot of you.”

Annabelle was freed from the handcuffs, only to be wrenched onto her feet and bound by the wrists to an overhanging beam.

 _“He winds the rope around her body, tighter and tighter, snaking down her torso so that it pushes up her breasts and bites into her skin. He twists it down one thigh, and secures it with a knot at the hip.”_ Yang raised her eyebrows at the next line. “Aaand, some more flogging is about to take place.”

Annabelle was hit, this time with a whip, and an apparently-already-aroused Christopher fornicated with her once again.

 _“He bounces her on his generous cock…”_ Yang snorted. _“…as she flails helplessly, hands high above her head, ensnared in rope.”_

“How has she not got pins and needles?” Ruby mumbled.

_“He flicks the whip up, striking her as they fuck. She moans, begging him to do that again. He whips her again, harder, and more of her juices gush onto him. He spanks her on the ass, wanting more of her delicious juice…”_

Weiss interrupted her with a strangled voice. “Can we stop now? There are children present.”

She beckoned to a wide-eyed Ruby, features contorted with horror and bewilderment.

“She’s not a child, she’ll be sixteen soon,” Yang protested.

That still didn’t change the fact that Ruby was a little freaked out by the things she’d just heard. “I don’t want to be tied up and whipped,” she murmured. “Or pee during… _it.”_

Pyrrha laid a calm hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ruby. I can assure you that that is not what sex is like.”

The blonde brawler arched an eyebrow. “Like you can talk. You lost your virginity only yesterday.”

“And it wasn’t at all like the scenes depicted here.”

“Again, it’s poorly written by novel standards,” Blake said. “It’s just porn.”

Pyrrha nodded. “Precisely. And women do not ‘gush’ like that.” She turned to the more experienced Yang. “Do they?”

“Rarely,” came the slurred reply. “Something to do with a certain gland being loose, so few women can actually do it, no matter how practised they are. Men still find it pretty hot though…don’t worry about it. Just get on with the sex, I say, and have a good ol’ time.”

“I doubt I’ll ever have sex at all,” Ruby said, tucking her legs beneath herself. “I’m a little put off.”

Weiss folded her arms. “Good. Sixteen is still too young anyway.”

A loud groan wrenched from Nora, and she sat up from her post on the floor. “Oh, can we just _shuddup_ with the worldly advice? It’s just a Thor-damned porny story. Let’s do something else.” She finished her cider with one large gulp. She held up the empty bottle, maniacal grin returning. “‘Spin the bottle’, anyone?”

 

The usual, flouncy, party dress of choice was a big no-no. The stain and smell of vomit had definitely lessened to almost untraceable, but there was no way Peony was risking it getting ruined even more. Thankfully, the closet that she shared with Poppy housed only part of her extensive collection, squashing her leader’s clothes into the corner. An alternative outfit wasn’t hard to pick out. Being satisfied with her shoes of choice was a different matter, but a pair of plainer heels were selected in the end – should anyone else release their stomach contents on her.

Yang had said in the text that they would be leaving at about nine. Peony had left earlier, making her first port of call at the Crow Bar, a tiny bar on the sea front. She sat cross-legged and lady-like on the stool, long, painted nails tapping on the counter, mimicking the ticking seconds of the clock on the wall.

She sipped her Western Valean wine – from a wine glass, this time – and silently watched the clock. It was ten to nine. The boys would be well on their way around the bars of Vale. She would leave soon and find them – or the girls. It didn’t matter which. Besides, with it being Saturday night, the bar was crammed with yelling and singing men, mostly sailors, trying to grab a pint from the flustered bartender. Several of the men had tried to make a pass at her, but she sharply turned them down. Thanks to her cold refusals, she had managed to create a small circle around herself, safe from their jabbing elbows and dribbling jowls.

She was untouchable.

And she’d had enough of this dingy little place. She downed the rest of her wine in three gulps, set the glass on the table with a loud clink, and promptly left. That had been her third glass tonight. Liquid confidence surged through her veins, if she didn’t have enough already. She would find the girls, or boys, it didn’t matter, and join them on their drunken adventures.

Only not for old times’ sake.

She was untouchable.

Unreachable.

 

Insatiable.

 

 

_______________________________________________________________________________________  
I did say that consistent updates were not guaranteed, but I'm doing my best. I'm glad you're all still enjoying this!

As you may have noticed, I may have alluded to some rather notorious stories *cough cough* Twilight *cough* 50 Shades. The latter has been exaggerated for the purposes of this story. Obviously I own neither franchise, blah blah blah.

Next chapter is going to be fun.


	33. Calling the Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team SSSN, Jaune and Ren begin their night out - and soon make an enemy.

Saturdays proved to be competitive nights when it came to grabbing tables. The three remainders of SSSN had gone on ahead to one of the bars, The Hunter’s Horse, where chaos ensued. The place was crammed with groups of people, laughing and chatting as if they wanted the whole city to hear. 

The trio took a few shots at the bar, before attempting to find a table. Sage almost got into a fight with one group of similarly aged youths when both spotted an empty table in the corner. Though the three had gotten there first, the group demanded that they removed themselves.

Normally calm and wise in these situations, Sage had taken three shots already and yelled at the youths that he was a huntsman-in-training and could easily floor them. The leader of the opposition dared him to try. Neptune and Scarlet grabbed both of Sage’s fists before he could fling them. They stubbornly remained at the table, and Neptune used his suave words diffuse the situation. The youths eventually gave up and left, but five minutes later, Scarlet noted how the leader was still staring at them.

“I suggest we leave at least two people here while the other grabs drinks,” Sage said, voice low like thunder.

It was Neptune who left to request at the bar that their drinks were brought over to them. He complimented the blushing barmaid and handed her a tip. She mumbled that she would knock down the bill a touch.

When Sun, Jaune and Ren arrived, they found the three boys at a table loaded with six pints of beer and several Jägerbombs. All untouched.

“Is that for all of us or just you three?” Sun laughed, bro-fisting each one of his teammates in greeting.

Neptune scoffed in mock offence. “All of us, of course! What do you take us for?”

The three newcomers slid down the bench opposite, Ren taking the corner and Sun at the end across from Neptune. Squashed in the middle, Jaune nervously eyed the tall glasses of beer and the army of squat glasses containing a brownish liquid.

He raised his voice over the pounding chatter, “What are those? Vodka and cola?”

Opposite him, Scarlet shouted back, “No, Jägerbombs.”

“They’re what?”

“Jägerbombs. You know, Jägermeister and energy drink!”

“No, I don’t know.”

Scarlet flung a wide-eyed look at his leader. “Sun, we’re in the presence of innocents!”

A sardonic grin crept across Sun’s tanned face. “Not completely innocent, am I right, Jaune?” He gave the Valean a playful nudge in the ribs. Jaune felt his face blaze and grabbed one of the beers. He wasn’t normally one for drowning one’s sorrows in alcohol, but tonight he was quite willing to do just that. 

Ren reached for a beer himself, before taking a sip. “It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

Much to Jaune’s relief, the boys were willing to drop the suggestive subject – for now, at least – and focus on exchanging loud conversation. He and Ren watched as the unfamiliar beverage of Jägerbombs were tipped back in one gulp. Judging by the lack of any reaction from the drinkers, they couldn’t be that bad in taste. Jaune finished his beer and leaned to Ren.

“Shall we try one together?” 

Ren shrugged. “Sure.”

They grabbed a shot each, two of the last few as team SSSN tipped them back like air.

“Cheers,” Jaune mumbled as they clinked cups. In near perfect unison, they tipped them back into their mouths.

Ren’s was gone in one mouthful. He set the cup back on the table, smacking his lips. “Huh. That’s not bad, actually.”

Jaune, however, took at least two swallows to down it all. He struggled and spluttered, and slammed the glass back on the wood, coughing.

“My God!” he gasped between splutters. “It tastes like medicine!” He hastily returned to his beer to wash it down.

Beside him, Sun raised an eyebrow, and one corner of his mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Jägerbombs should be the least of your worries, Jaune,” he said, before rising from his seat and striding towards the bar.

Jaune and Neptune, who had been in the middle of a conversation with him, watched him go, the former in apprehension in what could possibly be worse than the medicine-like taste of his shot, and the latter in amusement.

“Say, Jaune,” the blue-haired boy drawled. “Ever had vodka before?”

“I may have had it mixed in a drink at Coco’s party. I can’t remember, really.”

“Let’s assume no, then.”

Jaune didn’t like the knowing, mischievous gleam in Neptune’s eyes.

He gulped. “So how bad are vodka shots?”

Sea blue eyes rounded to feign innocence. “Oh, they’re lovely. Much better than Jägerbombs. They’ve got a certain kick about them. Ain’t that right, guys?”

While Scarlet and Sage nodded solemnly, Ren shook his head. The martial artist recalled trying a shot at Coco’s party, and hadn’t liked it at all. He was certain that it was the turning point of the night that made him insist that Nora carry him up the stairs to sleep somewhere, which ended up being a in a bath.

Sun returned with something very frightening indeed. He carried an entire tray laboured with a sea of the tiny glasses, each containing a clear liquid. As he set it down, the rest of the group gaped at in shock.

Sage spoke first. “Sun, I hope you realise that this could make us too drunk to get into any clubs.”

“Nah, it won’t. And if we have any trouble, we’ll just call Yang.”

“How much did that all cost you?” Scarlet asked.

“Two for one deal on vodka shots. So not as much as you’d think. I said I’d buy these guys a drink anyway.” He gestured towards Jaune and Ren. Sitting beside them, he picked up two of the glasses and handed one to each of them. “Drink up.”

Jaune and Ren exchanged dubious glances. The latter gently swirled the contents like a wine taster, before sniffing it. He wrinkled his nose. Like when they drank the Jägerbombs, Ren said, “Together?”

With a nervous gulp, Jaune nodded. “One…two…three!”

In unison, they tipped back the shots. Jaune’s eyes widened and he spat the vodka back out, spraying it onto a displeased Scarlet, before coughing and spluttering. Ren managed to swallow his, though he grimaced and shuddered.

“That wasn’t nice,” he said.

“Damn...right it…wasn’t!” Jaune gasped between coughs.

Sun rolled his eyes. “Pussies, the both of you. That was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“The tip?” Scarlet flung his leader a furious look. “Look at this, Sun!” He jabbed a finger at his damp features. “I have just been hit by a vodka-and-saliva-combo projectile! I would prefer not to be hit by anymore!”

“Fine, I’ll put my hand over Jaune’s mouth for this next one.”

“What ‘next one’?” Jaune squeaked, he and Ren slowly sliding down the bench, away from the source of their force-fed alcohol.

Winking, Sun reached into the deep pocket of his baggy jeans, and set something on the table. A jar of chillies. 

“Vacuan sun tears?” Neptune said. His expression now matched Jaune and Ren’s. “…What are we going to do with those?”

His friend rubbed his hands together with a wicked grin. “You know tabasco shots?”

“Stop right there,” Scarlet interrupted. “You’re going to make chilli shots, aren’t you?”

Jaune, Ren and Neptune paled at the thought. Vodka was fiery enough as it was, but with _chilli_ … Blake was a good enough example as to why this was a bad idea.

Sun popped the jar open and retrieved a generously long chilli, curved and pointed like a tiny scimitar. He hovered it over the tray of shots, before splitting it in two and pinching the juices out of each end. He distributed the droplets into as many glasses as he could, before wrapping the used chilli in a napkin – it could burn skin as well as mouths. He then grabbed another one to repeat the procedure. Then another.

Panic welled in Jaune’s voice, “Sun, stop! We all know what happened to Blake and that was with only one!”

Sun shrugged, but obediently closed the jar. “Blake’s a pussy…cat. I mean, she has a very sensitive mouth, I don’t mean she’s a pussy in the derogatory sense. But if any of you guys chicken out, you _are_ derogatory pussies.” Grin unfading, he snatched up a shot glass, and raised it in a toast. “Bottoms up, bitches.”

He tipped it down his throat.

And that was it.

He slammed the glass on the table and raised both fists in the air in triumph. There was no sign of any burning.

The others gaped at him, half expecting him to combust at any moment.

“Dude, how did you do that?” Neptune breathed.

Insouciant, Sun shrugged. “What can I say? Either the chillies are kind to those who’re the same nationality as them, or they’re just not that bad.” He pushed the tray to the centre of the table. “Your turn.”

Reassured, Neptune, Jaune and Scarlet took a shot glass. Sage and Ren were a little more reluctant, but soon gave into peer pressure and followed suit. The five exchanged glances, and readied to tip back the shots together.

Sun watched expectantly, biting down a smile while at the same time masking the raging inferno in his stomach and throat. In truth, the reason why he appeared unburned was because of the angle at which he had tipped the liquid. It was like sword-swallowing: lining up his throat and oesophagus with his lips, he could pour the liquid straight down without touching his mouth. Sadly, he _could_ feel it everywhere else. His throat was getting worse, stinging and constricting. His eyes began to water. At least the others were distracted with their own shots.

The five of them exchanged nods, and drank up, treating them like regular shots. The vodka and chilli stormed around their mouths and down their throats. Scarlet and Neptune screamed through their clamped lips. Jaune nearly spat his back out again, but somehow managed to restrain himself and swallow. Eyes streamed, cheeks reddened, tongues steamed and howls rose above the lively chatter.

“OH MY FREAKING GOD!” Neptune gasped, before bolting out of his seat to run to the bar, hoping to beg the barmaid for the biggest jug of water they had – with ice.

“SUN!” Sage blurted as he fanned himself, with little success of cooling down. “I AM…GOING…TO MURDER YOU!”

Sun barely heard him, as he too had now given in to the burning sensation, and moaned at his aflame throat and streaming eyes.

Neptune swiftly returned with a colossal jug of water and ice cubes – the second jug he’d acquired, in fact. Judging by his drenched face and front, he had sacrificed his hard-earned appearance to cool down. And yet his face was still bright red and insides continued to rage.

Sun was first to grab the jug, tipping a generous swig into his mouth. He handed it to Jaune, who all but snatched it away in fury.

“You liar! It burned you all along!” He practically submerged his face in the water and ice.

“I’ll make it up to y’all,” Sun sighed, still burning. The moment of blissful coolness had been brief and relieving, but the inferno still returned.

“You’re not meant to wash it down with water,” Ren advised, voice choked and cracked. He eyed Scarlet attempting to rid the pain with his beer. “Or more alcohol. You’re meant to use milk.”

“Do you really think they’d just hand me a huge jug of milk – for free?” Neptune protested.

Ren tried to call him a cheap-scape, but dissolved into a fit of coughs. Jaune passed him the jug, and the martial artist took a long drink. His eyes clenched, squeezing out more tears.

“This isn’t working,” he gasped, before relinquishing it to an eager Sage.

As the burn persisted, Neptune finally agreed to get some milk – on the condition that Sun paid him back as it was all _his_ fault. Jaune announced that he felt sick – after all, there had been vodka with the chilli. The jug was swiftly drained and handed to him to catch any vomit that should be spewed forth.

“But please hold it in case we come across Peony,” said Sun, forcing a crooked smile through the torture. “I’d love to see a re-enactment of Ruby puking on her.”

His head firmly resting on the jug, staring into its empty glass base, Jaune’s inebriated voice grumbled back, “Just shut the fuck up, Sun.”

Neptune returned once again, this time with a slightly smaller jug, filled with milk. It even came with straws. But he ignored them, and drank some straight from the glass before strategically passing it to Scarlet, intending for Sun to get it last as punishment.

The jug was already below half full by the tie it reached Ren, who politely sucked it from two straws at once. Jaune nearly drained the rest, before deciding to leave some for Sun – and because he felt too sick to continue. Sun wrinkled his nose at the pitiful amount left over.

“Jeez, thanks a bunch of bananas, guys.”

Scarlet shot him a green-eyed glare. “That’s what you get for almost killing us!”

“You guys really are pussies,” Sun muttered, and downed the liquid before anyone could snatch it away from him.

Slowly, the fire died away, and the group had collapsed against the back of the benches in relief or continued with their beers – except Jaune, who still stared into the bottom of the glass.

“I think I drank too much milk,” he groaned.

“Should’ve left more for me, then, bud,” Sun quipped, but still rubbed his friend’s back. “Don’t worry, man, you’ll be ok.”

It was decided, to Sun’s disappointment, that they would not be having any more of the chilli shots. However, the shots would not be going to waste, as Scarlet had an idea.

“Hey, Sun,” he said, a broad smirk creeping across his features. “We had some trouble with a band of morons before you came. I was thinking we could ‘donate’ these shots to them.”

“Morons, eh?” Sun’s fingers peaked together, along with his interest. “What happened exactly?”

Scarlet gave him the lowdown on their earlier encounter, including Sage becoming angry enough to threaten them – post-vodka or not. The group in question had moved from their earlier, smaller table to a much larger one on the other side of the pub, so were unlikely to have seen the true effects of the harmless-looking shots.

Cheered up at the idea, Sun agreed to ‘donate’ them as they were leaving. One last round of beers and ciders and Neptune’s rum were gulped down, including Jaune, who felt well enough for a final pint. Once finished, Sun led the way, tray of shots in hand. They stepped between ever-drunker people, some of the group getting prodded by extruding elbows and shoulders. Sun was nimble enough to not get hit by anything, or even drop a glass as he held the tray high in the air, balanced on one hand. Guided by Scarlet, he soon found the group they were searching for. 

There were eight of them, far from where they’d sat, all crammed round a larger table than before, but there still wasn’t enough space. Eight pairs of tough, suspicious eyes glared up at Sun as they recognised three of the boys behind him – the tall, blue-haired womaniser, the dark-skinned boy with green hair, and the shorter kid with the weird hair-style that looked inspired by some Eastern Mistralian boy band.

Sun offered them a grin. “Wassup, guys?

One of the youths’ eyes narrowed. “‘What’s up’?” he snarled. “I can only assume your little friends haven’t told you about how they fucked with us.”

“Not literally, I hope!” Sun remarked with a short laugh. When he received nothing but silence and more glowers – from both sides – he cleared his throat and continued. “Look, we’re sorry about the whole table thing, so we got you these by way of apology.” Without waiting for an answer, he slid his beloved creation onto the table.

“Sweet!” one of the boys cheered as he tried to grab one, but the first boy slapped his hands away. 

“Aw, Bruno, why?” the second protested.

Bruno, who was obviously the gang’s leader, looked Sun up and down, eyes lingering particularly on his tail.

“How do we know you haven’t spiked them or something?”

“I’ll prove it.” Sun selected a glass at random, and tipped it straight down his throat, exactly how he’d done earlier.

Ren narrowed his eyes into slits, realising what it was the faunus had done. “I see,” he murmured.

The gang regarded Sun with incredulous eyes. Bruno challenged, “Drink another – just to be sure.”

Biting down the burn with incredible resilience, Sun span the tray around a few times, to prove that there was no way he could know which shots were potentially drugged, and downed another.

“If I have any more, there’ll be none left for you guys,” he said, grin false as he hid the double whammy of an extra shot. His stomach churned in the flames. This was bad.

Thankfully, Bruno now believed him. “Alright. Thanks a lot.” He didn’t sound overly grateful.

Sun bid them a quick farewell before pushing past his friends to make a quick exit. The others followed, Neptune ginning and making a double pistol hand sign at Bruno’s group. Sun was already outside, so he didn’t hear the howls of pain that ripped from the opposing gang. The others, however, did. 

They bolted out of the door, Sage grabbed his doubled-over leader as they raced down the road, swinging him onto his shoulder when the monkey faunus protested. Ren glanced over his shoulder, shouted to the others that some of Bruno’s gang were already chasing after them. 

The five – with Sun on Sage’s shoulder – swung round a corner, down an alley way, then onto a quieter street. Sage dropped Sun to the ground, the latter hunched over, hands on his knees, as his stomach threatened to give up. Jaune had adopted a similar position, the running having churned up the milk and alcohol to a sufficient enough degree for his belly to ache and jaw to clench in a pre-vomit warning. He swore at the ground, reiterating the same curse over and over again.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…”

Beside him, Sun rested his trembling forearms against a wall. “Guys…never have two of those things in a row.”

“Never have them again,” Jaune retorted, voice weak as he felt a wretch build. He tried to stamp it down, but it kept on rising.

Neptune planted a hand on each of his friends’ backs. “Be cool, guys,” he said, calm and nonchalant as ever. “Remember, vomiting’s a sign of good night out.”

Jaune snorted. “I wouldn’t exactly call drinking liquid fire, too much milk, and running away from a gang who might want to kick our asses particularly fun.”

“Oh, but that’s a good night in Vacu- _agghhhh.”_ Sun’s stomach gave up before he could finish speaking. A beige, cloudy liquid burst from his mouth, splattering down the base of the wall and pooling on the ground. Evidently it was from his beers blending with the milk. More tears streamed down his face, Neptune and Sage patted his back soothe him. The vomit flowed in four separate eruptions, before dribbling, then finally ceasing.

“Ohh, _maaannn.”_ Jaune turned his face away and move further down the wall, away from the chaos. Sun vomiting made him want to follow all the more, while at the same time fuelled more determination to hold on. He swallowed down the pinching feeling in his jaw. He would _not_ be sick, he would _not_ , he would _not!_

After taking a few minutes to recompose himself, Sun declared himself fit to continue, a grin returning to his face. Jaune took a little longer, but his stomach at last began to mercifully calm down. It seemed to have decided it didn’t want to live up to his nickname of ‘Vomit Boy’ any more than the rest of him did. He pushed himself from the wall, his stomach no longer feeling as though it was swinging on a thread.

Ren placed a hand on his shoulder. “You ok now?”

He nodded, and managed a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Having now returned to his normal state, Sun cast the group an excited grin. “Awesome. First we’ll get Nep and Scar dried up, then we’ll hit the clubs and fear vomit no more!”

“I’m still fearing it,” Jaune muttered as he trudged behind the others. He walked heavily, not paying attention to the world. He’d had two vodka shots, a Jägerbomb, two beers, and it was starting to show. Twice he drifted right into Ren as his head submersed in a blissful cloud of thoughts. Thoughts about Pyrrha and what he’d like to do to her. Ren didn’t hide his surprise when his leader asked him about ‘froggy style’.

“I’ve no idea how to do that, Jaune,” he admitted. “I’d imagine it would be like leap frog.”

Thankfully, Jaune didn’t rest on the subject for long, as another thought crossed his mind.

“I really want to eat frogs’ legs right now.”

And then another.

“No, I can’t! Frogs are innocent creatures and they’re really cute!”

And then, “GUYS! I’M GOING TO MAKE FROG NATURE RESERVE!”

Neptune turned to cast him a thumbs up. “You do that, dude. We’re behind you all the way.”

While team SSSN and Ren listened to Jaune’s ramblings about frogs – and his idea of what ‘froggy style’ was – no one was aware that a member of Bruno’s gang was hot on their tail, phone in hand as he directed his group to the source of sweet revenge.

 

_____________________________________________________  
So this is another instance of having to split chapters in half. There is a little bit of story in there, which will all make sense next chapter! And there'll be a "little" more of everyone's favourite Peony Bloom (HURRAYYYY, WHOOP WHOOP, BRING ON THE BITCH ETC). 

And Bruno sounded like a funny gangster name. It also means 'brown'.


	34. Black Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A well-timed misidentification occurs, Neptune accepts Jaune as his god, and Ruby decides that clubbing is most certainly not for her.

One and a half bottles of vodka were downed, most of the ciders gone, and the beer had been obliterated. Now, Yang led the way into Vale, swaying and singing bawdy songs about sex and BDSM. The girls staggered behind her, laughing with her, with the exception of Ruby, who could still walk in a perfectly straight line, and hummed to herself.

The streets were dotted with the odd group of intoxicated people. One band of youths wolf-whistled and flirted obscenely with the girls, causing Weiss to screech back and reprimand them for “acting most inappropriately in front a fifteen-year-old.” At this, the boys whistled again, only in admiration and congratulated Ruby on starting out so young. Weiss reproached them again for “encouraging the underaged to drink.” 

“Knock it off, Weiss,” said Yang. “We’re not gonna let Ruby have that much. But it’ll be enough to make our uncle proud.”

Weiss narrowed her eyes in cynicism. “It runs in the family I see.”

Aside from Nora joining in on the bawdy sing-songs, the rest of the walk to the club was fairly quiet. It was quite a distance from Beacon, prompting half of the group to warn Yang – or complain – that they were beginning to sober up and they should have gone somewhere closer. Their blonde leader insisted that she knew what she was doing and that she knew the club owner personally, so they were guaranteed a good night with just a crack of her knuckles.

The club in question was located in a rather shady area of the city, and Yang had had no hesitation when pointing this out in the past. The buildings were older, plaster chipped away to leave the brick exposed like open wounds. The metal fire escape staircases that zigzagged the entire height of the blocks were completely rusted. There was the distinctive smell of weed lingering in the air, and the pounding bass of club music. The words “Black Bear” seared at them through the night in bright neon letters, above a door that looked like it had been used as a simple back-entrance at some point. Not to mention the soulless slab of concrete that was its building. The windows were blocked up from the inside.

The bouncers on either side of the door tensed at the sight of the approaching group. Their eyes widened behind their red shades at the first sight of the infamous cascade of golden locks. One of them cleared his throat and stepped forward to address the girl.

“What do you want, Blondie? Here to cause more trouble?”

Yang sniggered. “Only in the sense of a girls’ night out.” She beckoned to the group behind her. “So naturally, we _would_ be looking for ‘trouble’.”

Sighing with relief and slight irritation, the bouncer followed the mandatory procedures. “ID please.”

To his surprise, Yang happily handed over her ID card, where he saw it to confirm that she was indeed eighteen now. He handed it back, and his colleague stepped towards the others.

“And the rest of you?”

The remaining girls exchanged worried glances. Nora and Blake were of age, but Pyrrha’s birthday was much later in the autumn while Weiss’s was in the middle of winter. And Ruby was the most obvious by appearance to be underage.

Thankfully, Yang came to their defence. She cast the bouncers a dangerous, defiant look. “You’ve seen my ID. What more could you want?”

Bouncer Two made the mistake of replying, “Um… _theirs.”_

Yang cracked her knuckles. “Oh really?”

“Uh…” He hesitated. “Yeah.”

He had to have been new. Never the less, he was shown the ropes first-hand what it means to refuse Yang “Blondie” Xiao Long. Even without her gauntlets, she sent him flying with an uppercut and a right hook. He smashed into the wall, and remained slouched against it as he counted the stars spinning around his head. Yang whipped round to face the other bouncer, the one who’d seen her ID. He promptly held the door open for them.

“Welcome to Junior’s Black Bear club,” he squeaked. “Have a good night.”

The pounding bass enveloped them as they entered, thumping in their ears and deep in their chests, almost like an extra heartbeat. Lights dazzled in a spectrum of colours with the music, though at the same time, the place was so dark. All that could be seen of the raving, dancing people under the disco ball were their silhouettes, splashed with the coloured lights as they flashed. Those who had never set foot inside a club before – which was most of them – took a while for their eyes and ears to adjust. Naturally, Yang the veteran clubber adapted quickly and turned to shout over the music at the group.

“C’mon, ladies! We have a bar to drain!”

 _“Drain?”_ Ruby shrieked. “Exactly how drunk are you planning to get?” 

“Let’s just say I’ll gladly be the next person to vomit on Flower Bitch if we find her.”

 

Minutes after the girls had entered, a group of enraged boys stampeded down the street towards the club.

“Are you sure this is the one?” the overly-built, gel-haired leader growled to the scrawny boy running by his side.

“Positive, Bruno!” the boy squeaked. “I saw ‘em a mile away – I’ve got good eyes. Ooh, I can smell weed! Per’aps there’s a dealer here?”

Ignoring the last comment, Bruno led his hurrying gang to the glowing neon sign. Once their ID’s were checked – by just the one bouncer, as the other one appeared to be asleep – they barged in, and began the search for the six boys who had fed them spiked vodka.

Not long after, a pair of pink heels clicked defiantly down the street. Peony had heard the gang curse and rant about a group of boys that fitted the description she needed.

“Dirty faunus scum…gay redhead…blue hair doesn’t even fucking suit him…I don’t care if you think that pink-eyed dude’s a martial artist, I’m gonna knock his teeth in too…that tall, blond, scraggily kid looked like a total dork!” The last insult had been the final push to prompt Peony to follow them. They had also used the ‘N’ word as a derogative description of Sage.

She presented the bouncers her ID, blissfully unaware that there would be no sign of her beloved Jaune here. The scrawny gang-member hadn’t been lying when he said he’d spotted their six targets from a distance – but what his eyes weren’t that great. What he took for Sun’s spiky golden mop was in fact Yang’s luminescent curls, and his swaying tail was, in fact, her long, billowing locks.

A gang of boys and a deranged girl all searched the club for people who weren’t there. They all began buying drinks, but Peony refused to drink too much – she needed a clear head to locate Jaune, and for all the things she planned to do with him afterwards. Bruno ordered his gang to spike a drink in preparation for when their targets were discovered, for he thought he had seen a flash of blonde hair on the dancefloor.

The scrawny gang-member who had brought them all here, loitered by the bar, spiked shot of vodka at the ready. At the sound of a female voice ordering drinks beside him, he turned sharply, and beamed at the beautiful, pink-clad girl leaning on the counter. While she waited for her cocktail, he ordered two more shots. They arrived sooner than her cocktail, and he tapped her shoulder.

“Yes?” Peony shouted over the music. 

The boy cleared his throat. “I’d just like to say that you’re really pretty, and I bought you a shot.” He beckoned to the three before him.

Peony coyly fluttered her eyelashes. “Why, thank you.” She took the shot closest to her and tipped it back. She shuddered at the horrid taste that she knew to be vodka, and gulped down her cocktail that had conveniently arrived.

The shots that the boy had bought for her and himself had been the middle and right of the three. Both were unaware that she had just consumed the spiked shot.

 

Halfway across town, the real targets of the shots were safely on a completely different club’s dancefloor. Revitalised after puking, Sun had managed to dance up a crowd of girls to surround himself and Neptune, who awkwardly swayed his hips and cast charming smiles at their audience. Scarlet stood by the bar, drinking glass after glass of rum. Sage was chatting up a couple of girls nearby. Jaune and Ren danced side by side on the dancefloor, politely declining any female invitation to join them.

“Are you ok, man?” Jaune called over the tuneless singing of the crowd and heavy beat.

“Yeah!” Ren shouted back. “Really hot, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!”

They were both drunk, but certainly not the worst of the group. Ren had been put off drinking shots, and Jaune never did throw up in the end – for once – and had no intention of doing so. Which was why he made the next suggestion.

“Wanna share a pitcher with me?”

Ren surprised him by not hesitating. “Sure, what kind?”

They never discussed it, but somehow Jaune had ordered a ‘Sex on the Beach’ and now they were at a table, slurping at it with a straw each, discussing how sex on the beach could be executed.

“I’d imagine it would be with her on top,” Ren contemplated. “I can’t imagine sand in the vagina would be very comfortable, and I _can_ imagine sand getting thrown around and getting in if you did missionary.”

Jaune pulled his dripping straw out of the pitcher to point it at his friend. “This is all assuming that you haven’t at least brought a towel to do it on.”

“Sand could get on the towel. Sex is a vigorous activity. You would know, of course.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t mess the bed sheets up that much. She wanted me to go gentle on her.”

“What a gentleman.” Ren tilted his head. “Gentle. Man.” He frowned. “Aaand I’ve ruined an otherwise perfectly acceptable word.”

“Back to the beach sex, in the event of towel screwing up, I’d recommend doggy style, or any of those insane positions where she’s doing a handstand or something. Point is – all genitals must be high off of the ground.” He took a thoughtful gulp of cocktail. “Never mind sand in the vagina; sand on the tip.” He grimaced. “That’s gotta sting!”

Ren ignored the last point. “Yeah…doggy style. Speaking of, I’ve been thinking about how froggy style could be done. It’s like doggy, but she’s crouching. And you move as if you’re doing the frog leap, but never jump high enough to get over her back. Just high enough to penetrate.” He returned to the cocktail as if nothing of the sort had been uttered.

Jaune stared at the normally stoic boy. “Wow, Ren. The quiet ones really are the worst. Plus, I don’t think that’ll work.”

“Try it for me and we’ll know.”

“I don’t think Pyrrha will agree to it. Still early days in regards to the bedroom.”

A new voice slurred in then. “Ehh, it’ll be fine. Mistralian girls, ya know?” Sun beamed down at them. “Sorry to break it to you guys but…you look kinda gay together, sharing that pitcher in a cosy corner of the room. No wonder no girls are over here.”

Ren now withdrew his straw to jab it at the faunus. “First of all, we are already taken-” Jaune stared at him again. “-and second, don’t girls approach gay guys anyway? For friendly talk rather than flirtation?”

Sun opened his arms to refer to the whole club. “Look at this place, man. Listen to the music. All about grabbing a girl and boning her. Now look at the girls – every one of them dressed like whores. They’re all drunk, and I’ve seen plenty making out with some guys. Heck, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the same ones making out with ten different guys. Sexually frustrated whores, I’m telling you. We’re only here to see how many’s attention we can grab, but never actually do anything. Ego fuel. Speaking of…” He turned to Jaune. “How much Western Valean do you speak?”

“Uh…I don’t know how you can measure a language. I _can_ speak it, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Awesome. Cos there’s this bartender – girl bartender. Bartendress? Whatever. Anyway, I happened to overhear a conversation she was having when some dude tried to it on her – she said she only liked the Western Valean men. _Sooooo,_ how’s about you charm her with _la langue de luuurve_ and get us some free drinks?” When Jaune merely blinked at him, he added, “Or reduced drinks. Whichever you can get.”

Ren, who had been chatting about happily about sex, said this was a bad idea and wouldn’t work, and if Jaune slipped up they could get thrown out of the club. Jaune, who had been the more logical of the two during their talk, thought it was a great idea. His sober pickup lines in the common tongue of Remnant rarely succeeded – but drunk pickup lines in the most romantic language in the world were another story.

Sun led him to the bartender in question, a pretty, curvy girl with a distinctive polka dot bow in her hair. Neptune was already using his charm on her, and failing. When he noticed Jaune arrive, he clapped his shoulder for good luck.

“She’s a cold one, I’m telling you.”

Not very helpful advice, but Jaune approached her none the less. Her eyes met his, and her expression remained sceptical. He began talking.

 _“Bon nuit. Tu es belle ce soir. Les autres ça disent souvent?”_

The woman gaped at him, fluttered her false eyelashes a little, before gasping, “I’m sorry?”

Jaune gulped. This would be a lot more comfortable to do if he were single.

_Forgive me, Pyrrha._

_“J’ai dit que tu es une belle femme. Si les autres ça ne disent pas, ils sont très aveugle.”_

The bartender’s scepticism returned now. “Are you trying to hit on me in Western Valean?”

_“Je suis désolé. J’imagine beaucoup d’hommes essayent de batifoler avec toi. Quel irrespectueux! Ils veulent une femme pour le garde-à-vous ou le sexe, mais moi – parce que je pense que tu es belle ce soir.”_ Jaune managed an awkward grin as he tried to translate the next line. _“Je pense que tu es aussi une magicienne, parce que quand je regarde à toi, toute la salle disparaît.”_

The bartender flushed bright red, and fanned her heavily made-up face with her hand. “Alright, you got me, even with the corny pickup line. I can tell you’re the cute, dorky, romantic type.”

_“Oui, c’est moi.”_

The woman flashed him a toothy grin. “You’re after free drinks, aren’t you?”

_“Peut-être.”_

“Alright. What do you want?”

That was a good question. What _did_ Sun and Neptune want? Drunk Jaune went with his gut instinct.

_“Six pichets de cocktails, s’il vous plait. Le Sexe sur la Plage.”_

The bartender raised her shaped eyebrows. “Um, wow. Wasn’t expecting that. Thought you’d ask for twenty shots or something.”

_“Non. Six Sexes sur La Plage, s’il vous plait.”_

“Alright…”

She left to get to work on the order, and Jaune turned to face his friends with a smug grin smeared across his face. Sun and Neptune’s mouths hung slack.

“Dude,” Neptune breathed. “Teach me your ways.”

Sun managed to recompose himself to grin at their normally dorky inferior. “Knew you’d be the man for the job.”

Neptune remained awestruck. “Seriously, if I were a woman, I’d have sex with you right now.”

Both Jaune and Sun cast him quizzical looks.

“But instead I’m going to hug you.” With that, he enveloped Jaune in a rib-crushing hug and refused to let his struggling friend escape. He cried into his blond hair about how beautiful the language was.

“Look, Nep,” Sun said in his feeble attempt to help Jaune, “we’ll all go to Mistral after the Vytal Festival – all of us, Jaune, Ren and the girls included. There, you can wow Jaune with your many sexy Mistralian languages, can’t you?”

Tears streamed down Neptune’s tanned cheeks. “That is true. B-but this guy though!” He tightened his grip on Jaune, who moaned into his shirt something about already having a girlfriend.

The time it took for Sun to wrench them apart was roughly how long it took for the monstrous order to arrive. Six sunset orange pitchers stood to attention on the bar, the flustered bartender managing a smile at her charming blond customer.

Jaune’s reddened face was obscured by the constant flash of disco lights. _“Merci beaucoup,”_ he said as he took one in each hand, planning to bring them to the table where Ren was now staring at the emptied jug.

“Hold up,” the woman caught his arm. “I think you owe me a little something after all that.” She tilted her head and tapped her cheek invitingly. Sighing, Jaune gave it a swift, chaste peck. He muttered another thanks, then strode across to the table before he could be asked to do anything truly adulterous.

As soon as the pitchers were set down, Ren claimed one and began slurping. Sun and Neptune arrived with the other four, both a little dubious on what they had acquired.  
“Cocktails? Seriously, Jaune?” Sun complained. “That was my one concern with you placing the order in a different language. Getting the wrong damn drink.”

Jaune widened his eyes in innocence. “You never told me what to get.”

“Dude. Shots. Jägerbombs. That’s the kind of thing you haggle for.”

“They’re disgusting and these are larger. _Bon appetit.”_

Sun shook his head, and began drinking through his straw. “I swear,” he muttered between each slurp, “We will drag you to Mistral, where we have the advantage. Right, Nep?”  
Neptune was too engrossed in his fascinating conversation with Ren about coastal coitus.

 

Meanwhile, in the Black Bear, Ruby was back in close proximity to a toilet. Not kneeling before it this time, thank God. Instead she was sitting on it – lid down – while she hugged her legs, rocking back and forth as the alcohol insisted she kept moving. She was the only one here – apart from the reason why she couldn’t leave. A couple were having sex a couple cubicles down, door wide open, the act reflected in the mirror above the sinks. Ruby remained where she was out of modesty and fear of getting caught. She jabbed her fingers in her ears to drown out the noise.

The very reason she was in here in the first place had been to hide. A few minutes prior, she had been at the bar, minding her own business, sipping a cocktail that had one of her favourite juice brands in the title. It was delicious. And she had ordered it all by herself, just like her older, _legal_ (or closer to it) comrades.

Then two guys approached her and asked if she’d seen a group of six boys. Their descriptions of them were vague and Ruby said no. The encounter could have been left at that had one of the men, who introduced himself as Bruno, not proceeded to hit on her.

“Hey, baby girl,” he had slurred, voice deepened as he swayed closer to her. “You’re looking mighty fine tonight, by the way. What’s your name?”

She had responded by sliding further down the bar. “Leave me alone.”

There was a horrid glint in Bruno’s eyes as he followed her. “Ooo, playing hard to get, are we? I like that. It’s kinky. I like kinky. I like _you.”_

Panic welled in Ruby’s throat. “I don’t like you!” she bleated.

Bruno smirked. “Sure you do. You’re just playing with me like all women. Now how about you give us a kiss?” He leaned in, and Ruby chucked her drink at his face. He withdrew, wailing as juice and alcohol burned his eyes. Ruby had ran. No Semblance, the club was too crowded for that, and she would be as controlled over it as a drunk driver. She ran on foot to the sanctuary of the women’s toilets at the top of the building. They were deserted, and she locked herself in the end cubicle to recompose herself.

Then the giggling couple burst in and indirectly forced Ruby to remain where she was. 

When her scroll buzzed in her pocket, she almost didn’t look at it as it meant taking her fingers out of her ears. On the other hand, it could be Yang, or any of her friends. They could come to her rescue. With a grimace, Ruby released her ears and grabbed her scroll. The moans and shouts and bangs of hands against walls still continued, and she tried to distract herself from them by muttering the words to _This Will Be the Day_ under her breath over and over again. She sagged in relief at the notification on her scroll. Yang had indeed messaged her, on the girls’ group chat that had been named “Straight Outta Beacon".

_Yang: Ruby, where are you?_

_Ruby: I AM TRAPPED IN THE GIRLS BATHROOM ON THE TOP FLOOR. THERE ARE PEOPLE HAVING SEX IN HERE. HEEEELLLLPPPP. WHERE ARE YOU?_

_Yang: On the dancefloor with Ice Queen, P-Money and the Pancake Devourer._

_Ruby: What?_

_Yang has changed Weiss Schnee’s nickname to Ice Queen._

_Yang has changed Pyrrha Nikos’s nickname to P-Money._

_Yang has changed Nora Valkyrie’s nickname to The Pancake Devourer._

_Yang: So what’s this about people having sex?_

_Ruby: TWO PEOPLE. IN HERE. WITH ME. HELP_

_Yang: THEY’RE WHAT WITH YOU?????_

_Ruby: NO NOT ACTUALLY WITH ME! I’M IN A CUBICLE, HIDING. THEY’RE IN A CUBICLE FURTHER DOWN, MAKING BABIES – LOUDLY!_

_Yang: Ok, I’m coming sis, yang in there._

_Ruby: NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR PUNS!!!!_

Shoving her scroll back into her pocket, Ruby clamped her hands over her ears once more, bitterly wishing she had some form of hood with her, or headphones. She groaned inwardly when her scroll buzzed again, forcing her to release her ears once more.

_Blake: I’m lost. Where is everyone?_

_Ruby: I’M IN THE TOP FLOOR BATHROOM. I NEED HELP._

_Blake: Where’s the top floor bathroom?_

_Ruby: ON THE TOP FLOOR!!!!!_

_Blake: I can’t find the stairs. I need help and I’m freaking out._

_Yang: I’m coming, Blakey, don’t worry._

_Yang has changed Blake Belladonna’s nickname to Blakey Cat._

_Ice Queen has changed Weiss Schnee’s nickname to Snow Angel._

_Snow Angel: Let’s get a few things straight here._

_Ruby: MORE LIKE LET’S GET OUR PRIORITIES RIGHT! HHHHEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLPPPPPP MMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_Yang: YANG IN THERE LIL SIS, I’M ON THE CASE! I’M GRABBING BLAKE ON THE WAY UP!_

Sighing, Ruby snapped her scroll shut once more, and returned her hands to her ears. It seemed like an eternity before the lovemaking couple howled a final shout, and everything quietened. Ruby dared to release her ears. There were giggles and rustles as they redressed themselves, before footsteps, the door creaking open, then slamming shut. Ruby poked her head out of her cubicle, into the blessed silence, and heaved an audible sigh of relief. She could now wait for Yang in peace.

At that moment, the bathroom door opened again, and her eyes lit up, waiting for the bobbing blonde locks to grace her with their presence. Instead, she caught a glimpse of pink, before panic overtook her and she locked herself back in the cubicle.

If one thing was for certain, it was that Yang wasn’t wearing pink.

Then came the taps of heels, pacing up and down the tiled floor. Incoherent mutters of an all too familiar – if slurring – voice.

Ruby bit her knuckles to stop herself from squeaking. _No no no no no no…_

The heels stopped, and then there was sound of gushing water. Gingerly, Ruby crouched down and peeked under the door.

Pink heels, each with a tiny jewelled flower over the toes. Her gaze travelled up the long legs, to the short pink skirt, up the revealing, lacey pink top, up the cascade of brown curls, up to the reflection in the mirror.

Peony Bloom smeared on a fresh layer of rich pink lip gloss. She puckered her lips, smiled, blew a kiss to herself, and swaggered – stumbled, swaggered again – out.

After a few moments of crazed, silent panicking, Ruby exited the cubicle. She crept over to the sink, and stared at her wide eyed reflection in the mirror.

Peony was here. Peony had read the message on her scroll after all. Peony just wouldn’t leave them alone.

Peony was going to kill her, and Pyrrha, and Yang, and everyone else.

The door burst open again, prompting a squeal on her part, and a relieved cry when, this time, it was Yang who had entered. Blake trailed behind.

“Ruby, are you ok?” Yang gathered her into a hug, and she reciprocated by squeezing the life out of her. “Yikes, Rubes, I didn’t think you’d missed me _that_ much!”

“I am not doing this ever again, Yang!” Ruby growled into the crook of her sister’s shoulder. “Some creepy guy hit on me, I officially now know what sex sounds like, and what’s worse, _Peony’s_ here!” 

Yang pulled back then, and gripped her shoulders. _“What?”_

“You’re sure?” Blake added, amber eyes more like a mouse’s than a cat’s.

“Absolutely sure!” Ruby cried. “I _saw_ her. She was putting on her lip gloss as usual. And wearing pink!”

“Did she see you?”

“No, I was in a cubicle. I looked under the door. Guys, what are we going to do?”

Yang pinched the bridge of her nose, a very Weiss-like gesture. “That bitch really can’t leave us alone, can she?”

The cat faunus stiffened. “You mean she’s following us?” 

“Why else would she be here – where we happen to be?”

“But how would she _know?”_

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s bugged our room by this point. And set up cameras all around Jaune’s bed.”

A wave of guilt washed over Ruby, and she pulled away from Yang’s grip. “It’s my fault,” she murmured.

Yang started, “Don’t be ridiculous Ru-”

“I’m _not_ being ridiculous. This really is my fault.” She took a deep breath. “I dropped my scroll right when you sent me the message about tonight, and she must have seen it.”

“Ruby…” Yang gathered her into another hug, and kissed the top of her head. “It’s still not your fault. It’s _her_ fault, it always will be. _She_ decided to follow us tonight. It was an accident.”

Ruby pulled away again, and managed a small smile up at her. “Thanks, Yang.” She turned to Blake, silently asking for similar encouragement.

Blake shrugged. “Dropping your scroll was unfortunate, but we’ll be fine I guess. This place is actually relatively easy to hide in.”

“Yeah!” Yang cheered. “So let’s not worry! We’ll go downstairs and party on ASAP, because I am way too sober!”

 

 

________________________________________________________________  
Well, hello again.

Apologies for the hiatus, but it's all due to work, Christmas, work, RWBY vol 3, mourning after the finale. I think I've made it quite clear elsewhere (see last chapter's comments) on my opinions of Pyrrha's death. No matter what's been said by CRWBY, here's hoping she returns somehow, Mufasa-style being the more likely.

In brighter news, it's been a year since this fic began. Thank you so much to everyone who's come by on this crazy journey which isn't quite over yet.

For those who are interested, the pick-up line Jaune uses is "I think you're a magician, because when I look at you the whole room disappears." I didn't write it in italliced English because I wanted it to look - to those who don't know French - like how it would sound to Sun and Neptune, who don't have a clue about the Valean languages. My French might be a little rusty now, and my excuse would be "Well, Jaune's would hardly be perfect, would it? It's JAUNE."

I'll try and be a little quicker for the next chapter. Thanks again.


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